Storm Ravaged
by Twilight Fang
Summary: Russell Varon / Tom Underlay After the last hurricane has passed in the final episode, things are left changed between Russell and Tom. Although Szura may be gone, the uprising that he started has begun to gain momentum. Tom is caught directly in the middle, pegged by his own kind as a traitor, and hated by normal humans for being different.
1. Chapter 1

**Previously published under the username Asthenos.**

 _Yes, this series is a whole decade old. I doubt anyone is still interested in it, but I felt incredibly inspired to write a fanfiction continuing it after watching the whole thing in one week. The characters had so much potential, especially the angst between Russell and Tom._

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Swept away**

For several minutes, the only sounds that Sheriff Tom Underlay could hear were that of the crashing waves that dragged the incoming tide towards the shore. The force of the water was sure and steady, sweeping around Tom's ankles as the tide was dragged out to sea, and drenching his pant legs as far up as his thighs with every overpowering sweep inland. He kept his gaze on the water illuminated by the light of the moon, trying to keep track of one specific spot. But, as the water remained unchanged, his heart rate began to rise and his breathing became quick and shallow. Panic began to set in.

How long had it been now? Five minutes? Ten?

Tom scanned the water with his keen blue eyes once more, desperate for a sign – anything. Movement. The familiar orange glow that had greeted him when he'd rushed out onto the beach and into the water.

Nothing.

Another five minutes passed and it was becoming difficult to breathe. Again, Tom's gaze took in the ever-changing pattern of the tidal waves, but this time they drifted out of focus. Tom couldn't remember to blink to bring everything back into focus. He could only stare in trepidation.

"Tom!" Mariel's voice.

Tom turned automatically, feeling the pull of his name and nothing more. On some basic, instinctual level, he recognized Mariel but he couldn't respond to her.

"Tom! What is it?!"

That hadn't been Mariel.

Reluctantly, as if he had no choice in the matter, Tom shifted his gaze to the blurry outline of Russell Varon. The man he shared kids with. The ex-husband of his current wife . The ex-Everglades National Park Ranger who had become his recent confidante and partner against the uprising of the genocidal hybrids led by Szura.

"Tom? What happened?"

Russell actually sounded worried for him, but that would change once he found out. The horror of what had happened was just beginning to settle in. Of what Tom had been forced to do.

"Tom!" What happened?!" Russell repeated in a more demanding tone.

The force of Russell's voice caused Tom to unconsciously take one step back, and then another, his feet unsteady in the path of the water rushing all around him. He tried to speak, but no words would come out. His lips moved, just barely, but he couldn't produce a single sound. Blood stained his usually neatly ironed white shirt, his hands and his arms. Larkin's blood. Russell's beloved wife and the mother of his unborn child. Tom felt the ground sway beneath him and his vision became completely distorted as the tears that he hadn't acknowledged began to flow in earnest. He'd done this. It had been his decision. This was his fault.

Tom moved further into the water, like a dying man dragging his feet to his grave. Things were spinning now and his head hurt, but that didn't matter. He had to get to Larkin. Or better yet, he had to get away from Russell.

"TOM!" This time Russell's shout pierced the air, followed by the sounds of a loud splash in the water.

If he could just find Larkin, everything would be okay. Everything could go back to the way it had been the last couple of days. Russell wouldn't hate him and the distrust between hybrids and humans could be laid to rest. That was the last thought on Tom's mind as his legs gave out on him and he collapsed into the crashing waves. Only, he didn't sink into the welcoming bliss of the water. He felt strong arms catch him, saving him from the blackened depths where the creatures dwelled. The warm pressure of the water at his thighs receded to his calves, and then back to his ankles as he was half carried back to shore. Russell had both arms wrapped around his chest from behind and was dragging him bodily out of the water. He could feel Russell's pounding heartbeat at his back, and the other man's heavy breathing at his neck.

"Damn it, Tom," Russell cursed by his ear.

"Tom!" Mariel cried out, rushing down the beach for him.

The last thing Tom remembered before blacking out was lying on his back in the sand and Russell's hand on his face.


	2. Crime Scene

**Chapter 2: Crime scene**

Mariel steered the black range rover through muddy puddles and around fallen trees and debris as she raced back to her house. The vehicle had a bit more power than she was used to, but she was managing somehow. She glanced over her shoulder to take a quick look at her husband who was lying unconscious over the backseats, his head pillowed in her ex-husband's lap. Russell had lifted Tom into the back of the range rover and across the seats, kind of ending up that way. Instead of trying to shove Tom off, Russell had thrown Mariel the car keys and instructed her to drive back.

"How is he?" Mariel asked, returning her attention to the road up ahead.

Russell had unbuttoned Tom's dressed shirt and begun to check him over for injuries. "I can't find anything. This isn't his blood," he replied in obvious relief, trying to avoid touching the patches of blood on Tom's clothing. He ran his fingers through Tom's hair next, searching for any indication of blunt force trauma. Again, he came up with nothing. No reason to explain why Tom had been so distraught and then collapsed like that back at the beach. But as his fingers skimmed Tom's temples, he felt an unnatural warmth emanating from the flushed skin there. He pressed the back of his hand against Tom's temple and raised his eyes to find that Mariel was watching him in the rearview mirror. "Do hybrids get sick?"

"I don't know. I've never encountered a sick hybrid. Just a bunch of pregnant ones…"

"He's burning up, Mariel." Russell experimentally pressed his hand to Tom's cheek, and then his neck, feeling the same sickening heat connect with his skin. When Tom moaned softly, Russell found his throat constricting even as his hand found its way back to Tom's blondish-brown hair, soothing it, and Tom, back into place.

"We're almost there."

"What the hell was he doing out there by himself?"

"I have no idea. I just hope the kids are alright," Mariel replied, hoping that the blood that Tom was covered with didn't belong to any of her children. Russell had said that the children had gone with Deputy Lewis Sirk, after Szura's army of hybrids had been rounded up. They should be home safe and sound by now. But, wasn't that where Tom was supposed to be as well? What had he been doing in the water? Perhaps he really was sick, but Mariel recognized Tom's symptoms as more like shock than anything else.

As soon as Mariel neared her house she knew that something was wrong. The Varon family jeep was in the driveway, but Lewis' cruiser was nowhere in sight.

"What is Larkin doing here?" The last time Russell had spoken to his wife, she had been on her way home with her brother Dave.

"That's a good question," Mariel murmured, parking beside the jeep and feeling very uneasy. She got out and opened the back door for Russell, who lifted Tom out and hoisted him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

"First things first. Let's get Tom inside and then figure out why Larkin is here."

When Mariel tried the door and found it unlocked, she knew that her suspicions had been confirmed. She flung the door open, calling for Jesse and Rose, and nearly screamed at the sight of the trail of blood that streaked from the closet and spread outwards in a thick puddle by the sofa. Déjà vu hit her hard, throwing her back into the memory of finding Tom in that exact same spot over a month ago. He'd been shot three times through the back and out through the abdomen, bleeding out onto the floor in a scene straight out of a horror movie. The only difference between then and now was that the body was missing this time.

"Mommy!" Rose sprang out of Jesse's arms from where they were sitting on the sofa, tearfully racing for Mariel. Mariel caught her and held her tightly, exhaling in relief when Jesse stood up looking intact and unhurt. Dave was sitting on the opposite sofa, hunched over with his back to them. He looked up slowly, fixing his eyes on the sight of Russell carrying Tom, his expression lost and confused.

"DAD!" Kira screamed, rushing over to check on Tom. Beside her was Lewis, looking just as concerned over his fallen sheriff. She looked up at Russell in disbelief balling up into hatred before verbally attacking him. "He was just trying to help! My dad didn't do it! You had no right to hurt him!"

"What are you talking about?" Russell looked around the room, searching for Larkin. "I didn't do this. We found him on the beach, disoriented, and then he just passed out." When Dave continued to stare mutely at them, as if in a trance, Russell's eyes tracked back to the blood on the floor, and then to the similar stains covering Tom's shirt. "Where is Larkin?"

Nobody answered. In fact, everyone was going out of their way not to look at him. Jesse hung back, by the sofa with Dave, looking slightly guilty and detached.

Russell adjusted Tom's weight over his shoulder, looking towards the stairs that he knew led up to the master bedroom. Where he should probably be taking Tom. But he found that he couldn't move. His brain functions seemed to be moving slower, as if caught in quicksand, and he was reminded of the clumsy way that Tom had backed away from him on the beach. It felt the same somehow.

"Where is Larkin?" Russell asked again, this time unable to keep the rising hysteria out of his voice.

"Two armed men entered the house and held the family hostage," Lewis spoke up, keeping one arm around Kira as she fretted over her unmoving father. "They tied Dave, Larkin, and myself up inside the closet and took Kira and the others hostage upstairs. One of them had a change of heart and was on the verge of releasing us when the second gunman opened fire. Sheriff Underlay tackled him, but the gun went off and shot Larkin through the closet door."

Russell felt as if he were going to be sick.

"The bullet had pierced her lung and it was collapsing, so the Sheriff took her. She wouldn't have made it to the hospital in time, and with all the chaos going on in town, no one would have been able to help." When it still didn't look like Russell was connecting all the dots, Lewis quietly pushed him in the right direction. "That's why the Sheriff was at the beach."

"Russell, can you please bring Tom upstairs?" Mariel was eyeing Russell, half expecting her ex-husband to throw Tom to the ground and stomp on his head in a rage of fury.

So, Larkin was in the water, with those creatures. That's why Tom had looked absolutely terrified when Russell neared him. Tom had known how Russell felt about the water and realized it would be a sign of betrayal. All the bonding and bridge building that they had worked so hard on in the last two weeks would be burnt to the ground over this. That's probably what Tom had been thinking. Well, Tom was not always right.

Russell surprised everyone by moving towards the stairs, one arm still holding Tom securely to him. "I have no quarrel with Tom," he said stiffly, refusing to process what Lewis had just told him. There were only two things that mattered to him at the moment. One was that Larkin had been shot, and the other was that Tom had taken her to the water to be changed. He was no doctor, but he knew what a collapsed lung meant. The chances of survival were very slim during a hurricane when the local hospital was inundated with drowned victims. Tom may have saved her, hybrid or not. He just had to focus on that in order to get through the night.

Larkin was alive somewhere, waiting to be found. Along with their unborn baby. She had to be.

Russell followed Mariel into the master bedroom, wondering if Tom would freak out when he saw all the mud they had tracked in with them. He lowered his burden onto the bed and shielded his eyes when Mariel flicked on the overhead lights. They were most likely not used very often because Russell found himself blinded by them. Who the hell installed such ridiculous lighting inside a bedroom? He was drawn back to Tom who also reacted to the lights, cringing as if they had physically attacked him. He looked a lot worse than before. There were scarlet patches on his cheeks and nose, highlighting faint freckles that Russell had never seen before. And he was sweating.

"Turn down the lights," Russell ordered before Mariel could move away from the light switch. "They're too hot for him." He didn't know how he knew; he just imagined that if the lights were bothering him, they must be incredibly uncomfortable for a hybrid with a skyrocketing fever.

Mariel killed the overhead lighting and settled for one of the bedside lamps instead. "He may have caught something in the storm," she guessed, trying to keep her mind focused on Tom and not the puddle of blood in her living room. "You said he was held overnight for questioning. If he was in the same wet clothes all night, that may have done it." She wrestled with one of Tom's boots, grateful when Russell moved closer to help her with the other. "I think the incident with Larkin…" Mariel hesitated, trying to get around the topic as sensitively as she could. There would be time to search for Larkin's changed form later. Tom took precedence now. "The shock of it all may have pushed him over the edge."

"When I find the son-of-a-bitch that shot Larkin…" Russell gritted his teeth, trying to contain his anger as he pulled Tom's soaking wet pants off. He rolled them up into a ball and dropped them onto the floor. He didn't really give a shit about the carpeting, or the expensive comforter that Tom was ruining with his wet, muddy clothing. What he cared about was finding Larkin and bringing down Tom's fever.

When Mariel dropped Tom's shirt and underwear onto the pile of clothing at the foot of the bed, Russell tried to politely avert his eyes. Because what man wanted to look at his ex-wife's naked husband? But Russell found himself doing just that. He was so used to seeing Tom fully armed and wearing his sheriff's jacket that he hadn't realized just how lean he actually was. Sure, his arms and legs were toned enough, but he was otherwise slim and quite pale below the waist. He had a nice body, of that Russell had no doubt. Maybe that's why Mariel had left him for Tom. She preferred her men with less muscles and no facial hair nowadays.

"Russell?"

Russell cleared his throat and avoided looking at Mariel. "Yeah?"

"Can you help me get these blankets over him?"

Russell was afraid to touch Tom, worrying that Mariel may have seen the way he was looking at her husband. No, actually he was more worried about the reaction that he was having to looking at his ex-wife's husband. He needed to be thinking about Larkin. The stress of not knowing where she was or if she was okay was driving him crazy. Russell quickly rolled Tom onto his side while Mariel pulled the blankets away from the comforter on that end. The heat from Tom's hip and shoulder transferred to the palms of Russell's hands, making them feel sweaty and slick. He pulled Tom back onto the spot that Mariel had cleared and then covered him with the blankets that they'd freed up.

"Are you sure you shouldn't get him into the bath? You said you're naturally drawn to water."

For a second Mariel didn't answer. She was too busy taking Tom's temperature and shining a light into his eyes. "Tom takes showers, not baths," she replied, going into the washroom briefly and coming back with a wet face cloth. She folded it over Tom's forehead and began to dig through her portable medical kit for medicine.

"But… you said that you spend at least an hour in the bath every day." Russell was confused.

"I do, but Tom isn't comfortable in the bath."

Usually, that might have been more information than Russell wanted to hear. However, comparing it to everything that Russell knew about the hybrids, something just didn't add up. "So, you're saying that he doesn't actually go into the water?"

"That's right."

This was something that Russell definitely needed to pursue in the future. It was a topic that led to a bottomless black hole, and he really didn't have time to be digging through Tom's daily routine right now.

"Russell, why don't you go check on the kids. I can handle Tom by myself."

"Are you sure? I can stay if you need help." Russell found himself gazing down at Tom, watching his fair, long eyelashes fluttering against his high cheekbones. He didn't realize that he'd reached for Tom's face again until he felt Mariel's attention on him. As smoothly as he could, he withdrew his hand and turned towards the door. "Call me if you need anything." He could have sworn that Mariel gave him a dirty look on the way out.


	3. Calming the Storm

**Note:** This part contains suggestive scenes between two male characters, so read at your own risk!

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Calming the storm**

As soon as Russell reached the bottom of the stairs, he was met with Dave's cold, hard stare. His brother-in-law pushed away from the wall where he'd been leaning and grabbed his arm. "He had no right," Dave said angrily, trying to keep his voice low enough so that the others wouldn't hear him. "He should have taken her to a hospital. Or at least tried to stick a tube into her lung."

"She was shot, Dave. There may have been blood leaking into her lung. Tom did the only thing he could think of. And I'm sure that the tube should be going into the chest, not the lung." He was too mentally and emotionally drained to be arguing about it really, but Dave didn't look like he was about to let up.

"Come on, man! Everyone knows that the tube thing works until an ambulance can get to the scene. It's a hell of a lot better than turning her into one of… _them._ "

Russell tried to shake Dave off because he was in no mood to have this argument now. He still needed to check on his kids and then return to the spot where he'd found Tom so that he could wait for Larkin. Most importantly, he had to keep moving to keep his mind occupied and free from worst-case scenarios.

Dave's expression became darker, angrier, as he recounted what had happened a short time ago. "Lewis told him to use the tube, but he outright refused. He just couldn't wait to whisk Larkin away to pod-land."

Already on edge and dealing with far more than he could handle, Russell shoved Dave back against the wall and glared menacingly at him. "Tom is _not_ a doctor! He doesn't know the first thing about poking holes in people. And he did not take Larkin away to hurt her. I believe that. Why can't you?" Russell recalled the look in Tom's eyes again – a look that he would not soon forget. It hadn't been a malicious or smug look. Rather, it had been one of utter despair. Fearing that he'd made an error in judgment and had lost everything he valued as a result of it. And then there were the tears...

"Why are you sticking up for him all of a sudden?"

Before Dave could speak again, Russell lost it on him. Forgetting that the kids were not far away, Russell began to yell at him. "Tom risked his life for Larkin and the kids the other night! They were _this_ close to being tossed into the water. Tom was not the one who fired that gun at Larkin! If you need to blame someone, why don't you blame those sons-of-bitches who came in here pointing loaded weapons at a roomful of kids?! Speaking of which, where are those lowlifes now?!"

"They're in the basement," Lewis spoke up, coming between Dave and Russell. "We're currently having some… _issues_ with the Sheriff's Department, so I figured we should keep them tied up down there until the morning."

"Good!" Russell took a step in the direction of the basement but was stopped by Lewis' hand on his shoulder. The grip was firm enough to stop him in his tracks.

"Sir, your children are right behind you," Lewis cautioned Russell. "Those two men will be punished for their actions here tonight, I promise you that. But by the law." His tone was placating but firm, warning Russell that he wouldn't tolerate anymore violence on his watch.

If Russell had wanted to, he could have shaken Lewis off and stormed the basement. His thirst for revenge was boiling just below the surface, but his love for his children was just a little bit stronger.

While Russell was debating over whether to heed Lewis' warning or not, Rose rushed over to him and pulled on his arm. "Is Daddy-Tom going to be alright?" Russell hoisted her up into his arms and kissed her on the forehead. He shifted his attention from her, to Jesse, to Kira. They were all waiting for an answer.

"I hope so. Mommy is looking after him now." Russell carried Rose over to the sofa and sat her down next to Kira.

"Dad, what's wrong with Tom?" Jesse asked, most likely feeling somewhat responsible because it had been his classmate who had been all gung-ho about killing Tom in the first place.

"Your mother is trying to figure that out, Jesse. It looks like he may have gotten sick after the storm." Russell didn't let on how worried he actually was. With Tom's hybrid physiology, there was no telling what had caused his sudden illness, and even less of a guarantee of a quick cure.

"But it's nothing serious, right?" Kira nervously asked. "I mean, he wasn't shot again or anything like that?"

"No, Kira, he wasn't. He's just… sick."

Rose suddenly wrinkled her nose up at Russell and tried to get away from him. "Daddy, you need to take a shower."

"We all do," Kira agreed, feeling pretty grimy after their traumatic ordeal.

"Why don't you all go on up and get ready for bed? There's nothing more we can do tonight. And Deputy Sirk…"

"Lewis," Kira's new boyfriend corrected Russell.

"Lewis," Russell said warmly. "I really appreciate everything you've done for my family and I hate to impose on you, but do you think you could stay here tonight? Just until things settle down?"

"That's a great idea!" Kira echoed, maybe a bit too enthusiastically.

"Sure, I don't mind," Lewis answered, taking the request more seriously than Kira had. "I'll stay downstairs… just in case something comes up."

Russell headed for the door, car keys in hand, and was stepping over the threshold when something else occurred to him. He paused and returned his attention to Dave. "Hey Dave, why don't you head on home and get some rest?"

At first, Dave didn't respond. But when Russell narrowed his eyes at him suggestively, Larkin's scruffy brother got the message. He pushed past Russell on the way out, muttering under his breath. "Wouldn't want something bad to happen to Daddy-Tom in the middle of the night," Dave mocked the nickname that Rose had affectionately given Tom, turning it into a curse word instead.

* * *

Although Russell had done an admirable job of holding it together for the kids and Mariel, he felt himself beginning to fall apart at the seams on the drive back to the beach. He had no idea what he'd find there. Or even if he wanted to find anything at all. Would Larkin come back changed, like Mariel? Or screwed up, like Christina?

And what about the baby?

He had been spending so much time with Tom lately that he hadn't even asked Larkin about the baby. They'd argued a lot about Russell's obsession with bringing down Szura. Larkin had insisted that Russell leave the matter to the Homestead Sheriff's Department, but as it turned out, most – if not all – of Tom's deputies had sided with the wannabe dictator. Not unlike Russell's own coworkers. Perhaps if he'd backed off, he might have been able to keep his job, but that would have left Tom with nobody to trust. Russell dreaded to think of what would have happened to Tom had Szura or his army gotten their hands on him.

What the hell was wrong with him?! Larkin had been shot and was missing somewhere out in the water, but Russell found his thoughts returning time and again to Tom. If he were to be honest with himself, he was more concerned about Tom than finding Larkin.

If Tom had risked his wrath in bringing Larkin to the water, she would most likely be saved by it. Tom never did anything unless he was certain that it would bring him favorable results. So, Larkin would come back okay. If Tom had believed it, Russell had no choice but to trust his judgment. But there was no telling what direction Tom's condition would take by morning. Russell had never seen a fever so bad before.

When he'd first found out that Tom was a hybrid, he'd joined Dave in rallying against him. Finding fault in everything the sheriff did and said. There were conspiracies lurking around every facet of Tom's life. Or, at least they'd managed to concoct as many as humanly possible. However, the closer he got to Tom, the more he understood him. Tom had merely been following his altruistic master plan for the peaceful coexistence of hybrids and humans alike. Everything Tom had done had been for the greater good. How could he possibly judge a man who had sent his shooter to an island to be reformed instead of killing him outright? It was Szura who had taken Tom's good intentions and warped them into something sick and depraved.

Homestead was also the only known town where hybrids were flourishing amongst humans, and not tearing them to pieces. That was due to Tom's active influence on the hybrids and nothing else.

Up ahead on the road, Russell could make out Tom's cruiser parked halfway into a ditch, keeping the lane clear for cars passing by. It was a miracle the cruiser was still there, considering the fact that Tom hadn't had any car keys on him when Russell had dragged him out of the water. The idiot had left the keys in the ignition. Most normal folk wouldn't mess with a law enforcement vehicle, but then again, one couldn't assume much when the head of law enforcement became the target of a home invasion.

Russell slowed down as he neared the cruiser, about to pull off the road to park behind it, when his headlights swept over the vehicle. The car had been so terribly vandalized that Russell had a hard time recognizing it. He pulled up alongside it instead, throwing the range rover into park, and got out to survey the damage. "Holy shit," he said under his breath. All of the windows, and both the front and rear windshield had been smashed inwards. The entire body of the car was dented and scratched to hell, all four tires were punctured, and the upholstery inside was ripped up. Highlighting the mangled mess were harshly spray painted words in black and red.

 **TRAITOR!**

 **COMING FOR YOU!**

 **YER GONNA BURN!**

It had to have taken some seriously disturbed individuals to trash the car like that and then take the time to spray paint every available inch of space. The message was crystal clear. Someone had it out for Tom, and that someone was another hybrid. No doubt a group of hybrids. And another thing for Russell to worry about.

Being overly cautious in case that group of hybrids was still in the area, Russell went down to the beach with his shotgun loaded.

And waited.

All night.

* * *

It was nearly seven a.m. when Russell arrived back at the Underlay household. The door was locked, so he had to ring on it to get someone to let him in. Lewis opened the door to him, still dressed in his deputy's uniform and looking like he hadn't slept a wink.

"You look like shit," Russell commented.

"If I look like shit, you look ten times worse," Lewis returned the favor.

Russell glanced in the hallway mirror to see that he looked like a disheveled vagabond. His beard was growing in thicker than the usual stubble he kept it to, there were dark circles under his eyes, and there were lines around his mouth from where he'd rested it on his fist for the better part of the night.

"You're going to need to send someone to tow Tom's cruiser."

"Why's that?"

"Seeing is believing." Russell muttered, flipping open his cell phone to show Lewis the pictures he'd taken.

"Damn!" Lewis looked worried and did a bad job of hiding it. "The sheriff isn't going to be happy when he sees this."

"Can't imagine he would be." Russell sighed and headed for the stairs. He tried to be quiet as he walked up them, hoping that the kids had managed to fall asleep. They needed to be well rested in order to cope with what was up ahead. As he approached the master bedroom, he noticed that the bedside lamp was still on. "Mariel?"

"Russell? Thank God!" Mariel straightened up from where she was sitting by Tom's head. She had just replaced the cool, damp face cloth on Tom's forehead and was looking beyond exhausted. Her long blond hair was tied up into a messy ponytail and her blue eyes were bloodshot. Like Russell, she hadn't had the time to change out of her clothes from two days ago. "I can't get the fever to go down. I've tried everything! I don't know what to do."

"Does he have any other symptoms?" Russell stared down at Tom, shocked by how vulnerable he looked lying there like that.

"He's got an erratic heartbeat and his breathing has slowed considerably."

"Could he have been poisoned?"

"By what?!" Mariel asked in exasperation.

"I don't know. I was just listing it as an option." Russell covered his mouth and tried to stifle a yawn. "Look, why don't you try to get some sleep? I'll keep an eye on Tom for a couple of hours."

"Are you sure?" Mariel looked extremely relieved when Russell nodded and dropped wearily onto the free corner of the mattress behind Tom. "You'll call me if there's any change?"

"Of course." Russell watched Mariel head straight for the door, thinking it strange that she hadn't bothered to take her nightgown or any toiletries with her. "Don't you want to change into something more comfortable?" He asked her, wondering if she was going to unwind in her nightly bath ritual before going to sleep beside Rose.

"I'll do that in the bedroom downstairs," she replied tiredly, shutting the door behind her on her way out.

So Mariel was keeping her clothing in a separate room from the one where Tom slept? That was odd.

A few minutes passed before Russell removed the face cloth from Tom's forehead, soaked it in the bowl of ice water that Mariel had left on the nightstand, and wrung it out again. He folded it neatly and placed it back over Tom's forehead. Tom was quiet and still, not reacting to the cloth or Russell's presence.

"So, even Mariel can't figure out what's wrong with you," Russell sighed, bending down to unlace his boots. "You seemed fine the other night," he continued conversationally, stretching his legs out on the bed beside Tom. "And you're not physically injured, so…" Russell found himself drawn to those long blond eyelashes again. The roots were darker than the tips, something he'd never seen before. Out of curiosity, he reached down to stroke them with the tip of his index finger. "Girls must've hated you when you were growing up," he joked. The girls in his high school had always been jealous of boys with thick, long eyelashes. Russell wondered if anyone had ever mentioned this to Tom before.

A few minutes passed before Russell got bored of tracing Tom's eyelashes and began to stroke his fingers through Tom's light, wavy hair instead. He didn't know why he felt compelled to do so. It just felt natural somehow.

"Lewis told me what you did." Russell's tone became more serious, hoping that Tom was listening to him on some level and he wasn't just talking to himself. "What I don't understand is why you looked so guilty. You were the only one who took action when everyone else was panicking. You tried to save Larkin. If you had forced her into the water, I would've killed you. But you didn't. You did it because you had no other choice. I don't blame you for it, Tom. No matter what happens, I'm not going to blame you for it. Especially not after you saved my kids' lives."

After another few minutes, Russell tiredly wrung out the cloth again, this time using it to cool Tom's face and neck as well. When he'd replaced it over Tom's forehead, he noticed that Tom's lips looked parched. He doubted that Tom had bothered to eat or drink since the showdown with Szura. Russell had barely managed to stomach a few morsels himself. He'd been too anxious and pissed off to worry about food or keeping hydrated. Reaching into the bowl of ice water, Russell fished out a piece of ice and pressed it lightly to Tom's lips, letting the cool water trickle into his mouth. That was when Russell found himself struggling with the overwhelming need to touch Tom. He didn't question why he let the ice slip through his fingers to disappear somewhere down the mattress. Or why he replaced the ice with his thumb, sliding it over Tom's moist bottom lip.

Russell tried to pull his hand back, but couldn't. It was like he was being drawn to Tom by some unseen force. He leaned over Tom, his heart pounding in his chest with the fear of getting caught. The closer he got, the less he wanted to stop himself. Anyway, Tom was unconscious; he'd never find out. Russell just _wanted_ something – needed something. He'd been repressing this feeling for a while now, so it wasn't something he was unfamiliar with. But it was now coming on so strongly that he was losing himself to it.

Russell watched Tom's face for any sign of awareness but could detect none. There might have been a slight decrease in the heated color of his cheeks, but that was it. His fingers wove through Tom's hair again, his thumb not so innocently tracing between Tom's lips, parting them slightly. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, leaning closer still to brush his lips over Tom's. Just a brief touch, nothing more. He pulled back and waited. Tom was unresponsive to the touch, and it hadn't satisfied Russell's urges in the least, so Russell did it again. Only this time Russell applied more pressure to Tom's lips, leaving no doubt that he meant it as a kiss. Tom's lips were soft and pliable. Russell had no trouble drawing his tongue between them before slipping it into Tom's mouth. He kissed Tom hungrily, no longer caring about the consequences. He was too caught up in the moment. He caressed the side of Tom's face as his tongue slid over and against Tom's, finally eliciting a moan from the hybrid.

That one sound, no matter how tiny, was all it took to shake Russell back into reality. He wetly broke the kiss, moving off of Tom and withdrawing his hand just as quickly. He remained frozen above Tom for a few deafening heartbeats, imagining those deep blue eyes opening to glare at him in accusation. But, they didn't. And after another minute, Russell remembered to breathe again.

It might've been his imagination, but Russell thought that Tom looked a little better now. A little less flushed and a little more relaxed. He licked his lips and watched Tom sleep, wondering if he'd ever be able to do that again. Probably not. And worse yet, he could never let Tom find out that he'd taken advantage of him while he was unconscious. That definitely wouldn't work in the favor of their blossoming friendship. But it sure had felt good to shirk off some of the sexual aggression that he'd been feeling towards Tom. More than good. It had felt amazing!

When Tom's expression began to look more peaceful, and the harsh red streaks coloring his face started to quickly fade, Russell's thoughts became more coherent. His growing lust for Tom could not be contained, but it was now mingled with a very troubling suspicion. Mariel had spent a good eight hours caring for Tom with absolutely no change in his condition. And then, when Russell had taken over, he'd gone through maybe ten minutes with the same results. He'd sensed a slight change when he'd begun to touch Tom, and an almost immediate improvement after kissing him. Although he was still uncertain about what had caused Tom to fall ill, he could not deny that he knew what was going to cure him. It was the how and why that he didn't understand.

What the hell was he going to do with this startling revelation?

As if Tom could sense Russell's apprehension, he suddenly shifted away and his features became stiff and disturbed again.

This time Russell didn't hesitate, lying down behind Tom and wrapping an arm around him. If Tom needed him to be close, he'd stay close. He'd do whatever was necessary to get Tom through this. "I'll bet that you never predicted this would happen," he quietly joked. He stretched back to flick off the bedside lamp and then made himself as comfortable as he could, still clothed in his jeans and ragged t-shirt from the night before. He lay there with his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling and listening to Tom's barely audible breathing. He'd get up in two or three hours and take a shower before anyone else woke up. That way he wouldn't have to explain what he was doing in such a compromising position with his ex-wife's husband.

Russell tried to think of Larkin but couldn't with Tom's warmth up against him. His eyelids began to feel heavy as he fought back sleep, curling up a little closer to Tom and resting his chin on Tom's shoulder. Tom's hair tickled his nose, so he pressed in closer to Tom's neck to avoid it. Eventually, he found a spot that was just right and let himself drift until everything but Tom faded away.

* * *

 _Considering how this fandom is probably long dead, I would seriously appreciate any and all comments - even if it's just to say someone wants to see this continued._


	4. Moral Support

**Note:** Thank you very much to the person who left a guest review! I had to rewrite this part 3 times because I wasn't happy with it, plus it's so long so it took a while...

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Moral Support**

Approximately sometime in the afternoon, Tom was woken up by the sound of a dog barking in the street. A strong light was filtering into the room, weaving its way through the heavy curtains that covered the large bedroom window. Tom was confused, not knowing what time it was or what he was still doing in bed. He was usually an early riser and never failed to spring out of bed before the alarm had even gone off.

"Mariel?" Tom tried to speak, but his voice sounded weak and hoarse. And when he opened his eyes a fraction, the intensity of the light forced him to close them again. Was he sick? He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten sick. And, come to think of it, he couldn't recall getting to bed last night either.

Mariel was wrapped around him like a vise, one powerful arm squeezed tightly over his chest, her work-roughened hand gripping his wrist. One of her legs was draped over both of his, pinning him to the bed. Tom became confused when he realized that he was naked underneath the blankets. He usually slept in a pair of neutral, cotton pajamas. He and Mariel had been experiencing some… _marital difficulties_ recently, so he knew that nothing had gone on between them. In fact, Mariel had developed the irritating habit of getting up at all hours of the night to clean. She spent very little time in bed and even less time touching him. And, even when she did come to bed, she would disappear soon after she assumed Tom was asleep. He would often find her holed up in the bedroom downstairs, either sleeping or overindulging herself in a hot bath. So, what had he been doing last night?! And when had Mariel become so strong?

Tom slowly opened his eyes, allowing them to adjust to the light before glancing down at the arm that was holding him captive. His eyes widened in disbelief when he saw the dark, masculine forearm clinging to him, and the large, tanned hand that was holding onto his wrist. There was also the scratchy feeling of coarse facial hair at his neck and he could hear heavy breathing by his ear.

Reacting defensively, Tom lunged for the other side of the bed, attempting to disentangle himself from whatever man was taking liberties with him in his sleep. But the other man was holding on too tightly and Tom was too weak to fight him. The bearded jaw at his neck rubbed against his sensitive skin as the man at his back snuggled closer to him.

Tom had every reason to panic right then. He should have twisted around to claw out the man's eyes. Or elbowed the man in the ribcage. But he didn't feel uneasy at all, which was incredibly strange. As soon as he'd gotten over the initial shock of finding a man in his bed, all of his senses had returned back to a neutral state. He knew instinctively that the man who was now pressing a kiss to his shoulder meant him no harm. Tom tensed up, a million thoughts churning in his head as the man behind him pulled back but didn't release him.

"Shit! Are you awake?"

There was no way! There was absolutely no way that the man who had him locked in a possessive embrace was his wife's ex-husband. "Russell?!"

At first Russell didn't respond. It was going to be near impossible to bullshit his way out of this one. If he had just been holding onto Tom, that would have been one thing. But he'd been caught kissing him. That was not so easily explained away. Better to just not mention it at all and hope that Tom didn't either. "I'm going to let you go now, and you're not going to hit me." Very slowly, Russell moved his leg off of Tom, and then released his wrist, withdrawing his arm carefully and then backing off.

The mattress sank behind Tom as Russell sat up and dropped his legs back over the side of the bed. He could hear Russell scratching his head and stretching his arms until he was rewarded with a cracking sound.

Neither Russell nor Tom knew what to say to each other. Russell was mortified that he'd been stupid enough to fall asleep, thereby allowing himself to be caught in the act. And Tom couldn't come up with a plausible explanation for how he'd wound up in bed with his former rival.

When Russell kept up the silent treatment, Tom pushed himself up in bed, leaning back against the headboard. He pulled the blankets up as well, holding them close as a makeshift barrier. "Why am I naked?"

Russell was so tense that he could only laugh nervously at the bluntness of Tom's question. He turned back to Tom to study his face.

"Russ?"

"Your clothes were soaking wet. You couldn't sleep in them." When Tom continued to look at him blankly, Russell reacted. "You honestly don't remember Larkin getting shot or what you were doing on the beach last night?" Russell instantly regretted the tone that he'd used when a look of horror passed over Tom's face.

"Larkin," Tom groaned as it all came back to him. He dropped his face into his hands in distress.

"Stop that!" Russell pulled both hands away from Tom's face and leveled his light brown eyes on the startled hybrid. "That's what happened to you last night. You were so upset that you came down with the mother of all fevers and collapsed at the beach!" He didn't know how or why he knew, but he was suddenly one-hundred percent certain of the reason for Tom's bizarre fever. When it didn't look like Tom was following what he was saying, Russell shared his ideas on what he thought had happened. "You took Larkin to the water and then panicked over me finding out. Before that, you were already struggling with Szura's betrayal. Your alien physiology obviously couldn't handle the emotional strain, so you spent the whole night - and morning – with a burning fever and weakened vital signs. You had everyone worried. Kira. Mariel. Rose. Jesse. Me!"

Tom was quiet at first, processing the information that Russell had given him. He vaguely recalled feeling an overpowering sensation of guilt and remorse on the beach, but he couldn't remember what he had actually been thinking at the time. Why did Russell seem to think that his fractured emotional state had caused him to collapse? And why did he even care?

"Is Larkin…?"

"We don't know yet. I'm going to take a shower and go out to look for her again." Russell let go of Tom's hands and cleared his throat. "Are you feeling better now?" Mixed in there somewhere was a more pressing question. _Should I leave or do you need me to stay?_

Tom dropped his gaze and mumbled something unintelligible that sounded like _fine_ , before closing his eyes entirely to block out Russell's concerned face. An angry, confrontational Russell he could handle – barely – but not the Russell who was looking at him with fake sympathy and compassion. He was too exhausted to keep up his defenses against the park ranger who probably still had a vendetta against him. Alliances be damned! Larkin was in the water and Tom was to blame. If she came out changed, Russell would kill him. If she didn't reappear at all… well, Russell might just resort to torture. Hell knows the man was capable of it!

Tom's thoughts returned to the recent events that he had directly – or indirectly – caused, being dragged down a very dark and ugly path.

There wasn't one person remaining in Homestead that hadn't been tainted by the bungling good intentions of Sheriff Tom Underlay. His own wife wanted nothing more to do with him, thanks in part to Russell's meddling and conspiracy theories. Russell had nearly been successful in convincing Mariel to leave him. The only real reason that she hadn't was because she was quietly consulting a divorce lawyer in the center of town. But nothing got past Tom. He may not have heard it from Mariel herself, but he did learn about it through some local gossips after the lawyer in question had had one too many down at the local pub. Oh, they had braved many attempts at salvaging their marriage, but there were just too many things wrong with it. Mariel continued to secretly blame Tom for taking her to the water that fateful night, resulting in her being changed. She had even entertained the possibility that Tom was capable of hurting the children when he had taken them away for the weekend. And Tom hearing _I hate you_ right before getting shot was impossible to come back from.

And then there was Jesse, his step-son. Not only had Jesse used the meaningful gift Tom had given him for a volley of target practice on family photos – mainly pictures of Tom and Mariel - but the kid had even tried to have him beaten up by some local thugs. And to top it all off, Russell the hothead had completely misinterpreted the situation and used that very same gun to threaten him with.

Although Lewis was back on speaking terms with him, Tom still felt that the young deputy was holding a grudge for the whole arm incident. If only he had seen what the military was doing to those poor, helpless hybrids on that base. Maybe then he would have understood that Tom had only acted in his best interests, to spare him from that kind of savage experimentation.

Father Scanlon had a special place at the top of Tom's list of screwed up relationships. How does one go about forgiving and forgetting being shot by a priest? A man he had sought guidance from many times during the ten hard years he had struggled to come to terms with his new identity, while raising a young daughter and trying to be a loving husband to a new wife.

Even Kira treated him with an abysmal lack of respect, criticizing his failed attempts to relate to her, and rebelling against his fatherly need to keep her safe. She accused him of not wanting to be a part of her life when she did everything in her power to push him away. The boys. The parties. The nights she didn't come home.

And then there was Szura. That was one of Tom's personal favorites. He had been duped into working alongside a genocidal sadist. He had even been stupid enough to supply him with guns! What kind of idiot blindly trusts a secretive man on an island with a bag full of automatic weapons?!

And why should Russell care about him? Hadn't the park ranger done everything in his power to villainize Tom from the very beginning? It seemed like just yesterday that Russell had come calling for Tom in the middle of the night, dragging him out of his home in his pajamas and then spending a good twenty minutes lecturing him on how evil and twisted he was. And that was before Russell had hauled him out of the pickup truck, punched him in the face, and then pulled that gun on him.

Maybe Russell should have pulled the trigger that night. Saved them both a world of misery.

Russell sat back and watched Tom meditate, or whatever the heck he was doing, until he began to feel an almost palpable negative energy begin to surround the hybrid. He grew more worried when Tom's hands clenched into fists on top of the sheets, and his shoulders began to shake.

"Tom," Russell said gently, trying to touch Tom's shoulder to calm him.

But Tom moved away, swiftly getting out of the bed and not so modestly stalking over to the washroom, completely naked. Russell could only stare, admiring that lean back and that fine, tight ass before it disappeared from sight. The door snapped shut and locked from the inside, leaving Russell alone to his thoughts. Water from the shower could be heard shortly afterwards, and nothing else. At first, he assumed that Tom was furious over the unexplained embrace, but then he was hit with a wave of despair and sorrow so great that it took a lot of willpower for him not to force the lock on the washroom door. He leaned up against the door and listened carefully, picking up faint sounds at first. When he realized that the sounds he was hearing was Tom sobbing, Russell could only listen in horror.

Russell had never suspected that Tom was this close to breaking. He had never stopped to consider what the emotional strain of being blamed for everything that went wrong in the city had been doing to Tom. And it was all Russell's fault.

This is what he had set out to do in the first place. To cast doubt on Tom - the diabolical alien that had stolen his wife from him. To make Tom suffer as he had suffered during those tumultuous months that he'd spent fighting with Mariel over who got custody of the kids. To take everything away that Tom cared for. To destroy him both physically and mentally. And for what? All because Russell couldn't take responsibility for his own failures and hated to see anyone else get ahead? Because heaven forbid the town sheriff should have a nicer house than his, or have more friends than him, or be loved by his beautiful Rose.

The whole alien conspiracy had worked so well for Russell, even though he had tried to fight it in the beginning. He had been looking for an excuse to go after Tom for years, so when Dave's extraterrestrial theory had started to coalesce into something legit, it was like a trigger had been pulled. But now it was crystal clear that he had been in denial all this time. His perverse need for revenge hiding what was really going on behind the scenes. He had desperately needed to hate the man that he had secretly fallen in love with. The feelings that Russell had poured into that one-sided kiss earlier on was barely scratching the surface of what he was holding back. For Tom. So, not understanding his own messed up feelings, he had lashed out at the one person he couldn't afford to lose. Especially not after he had come to the realization that he had formed some sort of bond with Tom over the last few days. And not of the friendship kind.

After a few minutes, the water stopped running, and Russell heard Tom step out of the shower.

Should he walk away and pretend that he hadn't heard anything? If he confronted Tom now, it would change everything. He had never intended to let Tom find out about the kiss or the bond that Tom himself apparently wasn't aware of. But if he didn't… He would be condemning the hybrid to a state of self-recrimination and isolation that might send him in a downward spiral from which he might never recover. Hearing Tom crying had almost torn Russell's heart apart.

Another few minutes went by, and finally the lock clicked and the handle turned.

Russell couldn't afford to second-guess his decision. He grabbed the door handle, twisted it, and pushed the door inwards, causing Tom to nearly slip on the marble tiles inside. Before Tom could react, Russell shouldered his way inside, closing and locking the door behind him. He expected Tom to have regained control of himself, making it more difficult to approach him. But he was wrong. Tom's posture was completely defensive and his eyes red from crying. He glanced at Russell in defeat and resignation, clutching at the towel around his waist and the other around his shoulders.

"Are you going to kill me in the bathtub, Russ?" Tom's voice sounded half bitter, half hopeful. "I won't stop you."

Instead of justifying that with an answer, Russell moved forward and swiftly pulled Tom into his arms. At first Tom struggled, his lean body and wet skin slippery to hold onto. But Russell held on tightly, feeling the fight gradually go out of the hybrid to be replaced by desperation. He felt the arms that had been pushing him away now grabbing onto him instead. Tom was trembling hard and Russell only realized that he'd begun to cry again when he felt hot tears trickle down his neck from where the hybrid had buried his face. The entire weight of blame and loneliness that Tom had been carrying around for nearly a decade had escaped its confinement and was threatening to consume him.

"Tom…" Russell tried to think of something to say but he was too overwhelmed, too scared for Tom to come up with the right words that would make a difference. All he could do was hold onto Tom and hope that his presence would be comfort enough. He stroked Tom's damp hair and rubbed his lower back, willing himself to remain calm and in control so that the hybrid might draw strength from him. But the trembling didn't stop, nor did the quiet sobs that were muffled by Russell's t-shirt. He had worried that Tom might reject his compassion, interpreting it as pity or a misguided sense of obligation towards his ex-wife's husband. Judging by the way Tom was clinging to him, that was not the case at all.

When Tom had eventually quieted down and was too exhausted to protest, Russell pulled him down to sit on the floor. He kept his arms around him and leaned back against the wall, doing his best to organize his thoughts. "None of this is your fault, Tom. Not Larkin. Not Szura. And not Mariel. I'm sorry if I made you feel otherwise." Russell realized that he had Tom in a very vulnerable position, having lulled the hybrid into a feeling of warmth and security. Tom didn't seem able to pull away anymore than Russell wanted to let him go. It was more than Tom being reluctant to throw away the only genuine kindness that he'd been shown in a long time. Russell could sense that Tom was being drawn to him in much the same way Russell himself craved Tom's closeness. "Tom…," Russell held back his concern for Tom's pride and said what was on his mind. "I'm really worried about you. You've been holding all this in for far too long. It's going to destroy you if you don't let someone in."

"I'm fine," Tom protested shakily, contradicting himself by allowing Russell to begin to caress his face. His eyelids slit shut and he just stayed there, perfectly still, hoping that Russell wouldn't withdraw his touch or the support that he was providing. He didn't know how or why, but being this close to Russell seemed to be doing what Tom hadn't been able to do himself. It was helping to pacify the self-destructive feelings that had been accumulating inside him lately.

"No, you're not. You're a far cry from being okay." Russell considered bringing up his suspicions about the bond but decided against it because Tom had enough to handle. He was still convinced that Tom wasn't even aware of it. If the hybrid had even an inkling of the connection that was developing between them, he might try to sever it in order to protect himself. For his own selfish reasons, Russell did not want to see that happen. "Whatever you're going through, you're not alone. I'm going to be here for you, Tom. No matter what happens." He really should have left it at that because Tom made no comment or gave any indication that Russell's words meant anything to him. But Tom felt so warm in his arms, so right in his embrace, that Russell became greedy. It was difficult to feel guilty after he had already taken advantage of the hybrid in his sleep. Before Russell could slam the brakes on his demanding hormones, he was hooking two fingers under Tom's chin to tilt his head up. Not giving Tom the opportunity to open his eyes and refuse what was about to happen, Russell aligned his lips with the hybrid's and kissed him. Again.

At first, Tom made a confused sound and jerked back, but Russell was stronger and held him stubbornly in place. Russell nipped at Tom's lips and then whispered in the hybrid's ear. "I can make you feel good, if you'll let me." He knew that there would be no misinterpreting that. He was on the verge of earning himself a free night in a jail cell, if Tom decided to treat his advances like sexual harassment and pull the sheriff card on him. Somehow Russell knew that Tom wouldn't do that. Not if he wanted this as badly as Russell himself did.

Russell gave Tom a fair amount of time to resist or verbally object to what he had implied. When Tom did neither, Russell took the chance of looking at him, startled to find those tortured blue eyes silently pleading with him to take the pain away. Russell's reaction was instantaneous. He covered Tom's mouth with his own, barely able to contain his surprise when the hybrid parted his lips to allow Russell access. Russell's tongue stole into Tom's mouth, kissing him as intimately as he dared. And Tom was kissing back, moaning softly into Russell's mouth. It was funny, really, because Tom seemed so uptight that Russell had never pegged him for the sensitive, sensual type. But kissing him was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Russell moved so that he could press Tom back against the wall, his fingers entwining with the hybrid's and then pinning his hands at his sides. He moved off a bit so that he could rub his coarse beard against Tom's neck, scratching it lightly as he began to kiss down to his collarbone. Pushing the towel off of Tom's shoulders, Russell kissed across Tom's collarbone and up to his shoulder, feeling him begin to tremble. He shifted forward onto his knees before Tom and pressed a kiss to the base of the hybrid's throat. As soon as he flattened his tongue against Tom's throat and licked upwards, his prickly beard scratching the sensitive skin there, Tom arched his neck and whimpered. The sound was so sexy – so uncontrolled and unlike Tom – that Russell nearly came in his pants.

Russell surged forward again to claim Tom's mouth, effectively masking any further sounds that the hybrid felt inclined to make. He had never imagined that Tom would submit to him so easily, or that he would enjoy it so much. But when Russell's hand wandered lower, toying with the towel fastened securely around Tom's waist, Tom suddenly ended the kiss by biting Russell's tongue.

"What the hell, Tom?! You bit me!" Russell withdrew from Tom's personal space to touch his fingers to his tongue. "Damn it! I'm bleeding."

"Are we alone?" Tom asked breathlessly, leaning his head back against the wall and panting, his normally sharp, blue eyes softened with desire.

"Shit! No," Russell cursed. "Sorry." Mariel was still downstairs and the children could be anywhere. When Russell brushed off the injury to kiss Tom again, this time gentler, the hybrid did nothing to stop him. "I didn't misread this, did I?" He asked for clarification, noting that Tom was becoming very submissive to him, and aside from the warning bite to keep things quiet, he had done nothing to stop Russell. "This isn't just stress relief for you, is it?"

"Is that all it was for you?" Tom asked in return, sounding too vulnerable for Russell's liking.

"No. Although it would be a hell of a lot easier if it was." Russell sighed and forced himself to back off. "I don't know know what's going on between you and Mariel, but Larkin and I aren't working out anymore. Not since you and I started to spend more time together. This is not me blaming you for anything. This is me warning you." He sat down on the floor next to Tom and exhaled noisily. "I can't control the way I feel about you anymore, Tom. If you don't want this getting anymore complicated, then you'd better let me know now. Because if you don't, I can't promise you that I'll be able to stop myself the next time. And it doesn't matter who is in the house at the time."

"Mariel and I are over," Tom said, sounding a lot better than he had when he'd been crying in Russell's arms.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Except that he really wasn't.

Tom shakily got back onto his feet and pulled a bathrobe off of a peg by the door, wrapping it around his shoulders. "Oh, and Russ…"

Russell looked up as Tom was unlocking the door. "Yeah?"

"The next time I won't stop you."

Russell watched Tom disappear into the bedroom to get dressed and felt his throat go incredibly dry at the prospect of being giving free rein of the beautiful hybrid's body.

* * *

 **Please leave a review and let me know what you thought of this part! :)**


	5. Loss of Control

**Author's note: Thank you very much to the guest who left the very kind - and motivating - review! I would hug you just for taking the time to read and comment because it means so much to me. This fic is probably the one that I am most involved with right now (aside from the Drive Angry fic), and the chapters are much longer than my other fics, so it's taking a while to get them up. Unbelievably this fic is already well over 50 pages... and as soon as I finish editing part 6, it'll be over 60!**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Loss of Control**

What was the ratio of coffee to water again? Was it one teaspoon per cup? Or one tablespoon? And what was the difference between the ground coffee in the paper bag with the X marked at the top right corner versus the one without? They were both half used and conveniently sitting right beside each other on the top pantry shelf. Tom placed both bags on the marble countertop and opened them one by one. They looked and smelled identical too. He glanced at the empty coffee maker by the sink and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb as he felt a headache coming on. He was too tired for this. He still felt unnaturally lethargic, sapped of his usual springy energy, and the only thing that he had been looking forward to upon entering the kitchen was a nice, hot cup of freshly brewed coffee. Something substantial for breakfast wouldn't have hurt either.

But Mariel was the one who always made the coffee. And Mariel apparently wasn't home.

After getting dressed into his sheriff's uniform, which consisted of a standard pair of brown trousers with two yellow stripes running down the outside of either leg, and a white button-down shirt – complete with the Homestead Sheriff's Department badges on both shoulders, his gold sheriff's star, and his name pin – Tom had wandered into the kitchen in the hopes of finding something hot to eat. Actually, he would've settled for leftovers he was _that_ hungry. Much to his dismay, he had found a note on his placemat instead, detailing Mariel's hectic schedule and the likelihood that she wouldn't be back until after midnight.

Tom had resisted the urge to email Mariel's cell phone to ask her which coffee bag was for the coffeemaker. She was probably swamped with patients down at the hospital, and the likelihood of him getting any response was nonexistent.

"Hey, Tom, you're up!"

Tom turned around to find Jesse lurking in the doorway, his dark brown eyes regarding him cautiously. "Jesse! Where is everyone?"

"Lewis took Brett and that lowlife who shot Larkin down to the station. Kira insisted on going with him. Mom got a call from the hospital about an hour ago and headed out to work. She said that if I saw you going anywhere near the door, I was to read you the riot act. And Dad, um, he sent Dave home last night." Jesse came into the kitchen and took a seat at the table.

The headache just kept getting bigger. Despite Mariel's urgency to get all the divorce arrangements organized and settled before she served Tom with the papers, she still had no problem pulling the responsible physician act on him.

Tom poked the random measuring spoon that he had taken from the cutlery drawer into the paper bag on the right. And stopped. "Where's Rose?"

"She was getting restless so I let her into the backyard with her cat."

That was good. Some fresh air might help her deal with being cooped up in the house for the next few days. Because Tom had no intention of letting either Jesse or Rose anywhere out of his sight until he had surveyed the town for any possible threats. Kira was a different story. So long as she was with Lewis, she ought to be well taken care of. Keeping her indoors would have been preferable, but that would just incite the rebel in her and she would be out the window as soon as he had his back turned.

"So, did my dad figure out what was wrong with you?" Jesse asked casually as he opened the box of cookies that he had been eating for breakfast earlier on.

Luckily, Tom had chosen that precise moment to rummage through the drawer for a smaller spoon, so Jesse missed the blush that crept up into his cheeks, but not the clattering of the spoon to the linoleum floor as it slipped through his fingers.

"I was just tired, that's all," Tom replied nervously, stooping down to retrieve the spoon. "Uh… do you know how to make coffee?" He quickly changed the subject and willed himself to keep breathing. He was still pretty unraveled after his encounter with Russell in the washroom. No. Unraveled implied that he might be capable of putting things back into order, both mentally and emotionally. What he was feeling was more along the lines of knocked out of orbit. There was no coming back from what Russell had initiated. Russell had taken their relationship from on-again off-again enemies, to allies of necessity, and then driven it straight off a cliff and into uncharted territory. Tom still couldn't shake off the lingering feeling of Russell's tongue in his mouth or those strong arms around his back. He had been drowning in sensation and simultaneously soothed by Russell's words of conviction. Russell had feelings for him, and although those feelings had yet to be properly defined, there was no mistaking how far the park ranger was willing to go to express them.

"Are you sure you should be out of bed?" Jesse asked, now sounding slightly concerned, because it was difficult not to notice how flushed Tom's face was now that he wasn't hiding behind the cupboard.

"That's a good question," Russell joined in as he appeared in the doorway, his hair still damp from his shower, and his blue t-shirt stretched far too snugly across his chest. Tom thought that shirt looked familiar until he recognized it as last year's birthday present from Kira. It had been too big in the shoulders so he had never actually worn it. Had Russell been going through his drawers?! "What're you doing?" Russell asked, sounding frustrated.

"What does it look like I'm doing, Russ? I'm making coffee." Tom tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice but couldn't quite pull it off. After what they'd been doing upstairs a little while ago he had no idea where he stood with Russell. Or how he should be acting around him.

"Except that he doesn't know how to make coffee," Jesse mumbled around a mouthful of cookie crumbs.

"That's not what I was asking. I meant, why does it look like you're dressed for work?"

"Because that's where I'm going as soon as I can figure out which bag is for the coffee machine." Tom automatically took a step away from the counter when Russell came up behind him to peer into the coffee bags. And then, before Tom could pull his hand away, Russell's hand covered his own on the counter, the action concealed from Jesse by the angle of his back.

"This one is finely ground, that one is the usual stuff. So, this one is for your expensive espresso maker over there, and that one is for the regular coffee machine." Russell stroked his thumb over the back of Tom's hand, watching the hybrid become even more flustered. The gesture was both flirtatious and reassuring, as well as containing a hint of a challenge. Russell's gaze lingered on Tom's face, admiring him quietly with a sense of ownership that he tried to convey with his eyes alone. "I'll make you coffee and something to eat," he offered, his fingers trailing over Tom's wrist. "But you're not going into work today."

"Russ-," Tom began, about to protest that the Sheriff's Department needed him, and without his presence everything was bound to go to hell. But Russell cut him off.

"I'm sure that Lewis can handle things for one day. You've worked there for how many years? And you've taken how many days off?"

"Eight years without a single sick day," Tom answered with more than a twinge of pride, but laced with a great deal of discomfort at the way Russell was touching him. It wasn't that he didn't like it. On the contrary, he liked it a little too much. What concerned him was that he seemed to be losing control to the park ranger. Whenever he thought of the way Russell had kissed him…

Russell leaned onto the counter on his elbows and whispered by Tom's ear, making sure that his son was still crunching away on nutrition-deficient cookies and would not be able to overhear. "You're blushing," he teased, sounding amused. "It's cute. You're cute. But then again, I never bought the tough sheriff act."

When Tom turned to give Russell an incredulous look, he was stunned to find the dark haired man smiling fondly at him. Tom felt his heart rate rise and his blood quicken at the way Russell was looking at him. It wasn't like he hadn't seen the man smile before. Tom had witnessed a more toned down version of it many times in the past, usually directed at the occasional townsperson that Russell happened to be particularly neighborly with. Of course he smiled at his own children. That was to be expected. But Russell always reserved the bitter, scornful gazes for Tom, cloaked behind a veneer of frigid politeness. How many times had Tom longed for Russell to stop treating him like a cancer and just show him a sliver of the kindness he bestowed upon others? How many nights had Tom lain awake in bed, wondering what he had done to deserve the hurtful accusations that Russell lashed out at him with?

Suddenly the kitchen felt too claustrophobic and the air too thick. There wasn't enough room to breathe, not with Russell standing so close. Tom knew that he needed to get out of there before he did or said something to embarrass himself. But the strong hand that gripped him by his elbow would not allow him to leave.

Tom tried to avoid looking at the man who he had always thought was ruggedly handsome and somewhat charming. The same man whom he had felt himself compelled to request to accompany him back to the plane crash site of which he had been the sole survivor. How things would have been different if it had been Russell, and not Mariel, who had escorted him back to the glades that fateful day.

"Tom, look at me," Russell said, his tone low and even.

What was wrong with him? These were feelings that he had never allowed himself to acknowledge. Why should they bother him now? It didn't make sense, especially not after Russell had basically apologized for everything and then alluded to the possibility of something intimate developing between them. Shouldn't that make up for whatever had happened in the past? Tom didn't want Russell to find out how deeply his words and actions had scarred him. That would jeopardize any chance he had of feeling Russell's warm lips on him again. There was still Larkin to think about, too. Russell wouldn't want the added pressure or guilt of knowing the pain he had caused Tom in the past. If he were to ever learn of just how damaged Tom felt inside, he would turn away in disgust.

Russell's hand left Tom's arm and he actually did turn away, but only for the short amount of time it took him to glance at Jesse. "Jess, could you go see how your sister is doing?"

"Sure thing, Dad!" Jesse spared his dad and his mother's semi-new husband a suspicious once over before he made himself scarce.

The next thing Tom knew, Russell was embracing him with a fierce possessiveness that spoke volumes of how much the ranger was willing to invest in whatever was happening between them. Very slowly, Tom felt something akin to a panic attack begin to fade and die out. Seconds earlier, his emotions had been threatening to shred him from the inside-out, raw energy that he couldn't control. All it had taken to placate them was the feeling of being pressed up against Russell's well-built chest, with those strong arms wrapped around him. Tom felt weak and lightheaded, resting his head against Russell's broad shoulder in an attempt to quell the dizziness that crept up on him. He had thought that maybe he'd stopped breathing, but when he tried to concentrate he realized that he was breathing so hard he was nearly out of breath.

"It's okay," Russell said gently, his fingers threading into Tom's hair, calming him. "Just keep breathing. You're going to be okay."

It took a long time for Tom to come down from the ledge he felt himself suspended from, shaking and beginning to feel nauseous. When Russell took a step backwards and away from him, Tom grabbed onto the park ranger's biceps and frantically held on. "No," he pleaded, not knowing what he was asking for, only that he needed to stay in close contact with Russell.

"I'm taking you into the living room where you can sit down," Russell said calmly, but with an underlying tension to his voice. "Before you fall down," he added, sounding very concerned. He guided Tom out of the kitchen and to the living room, catching him when his legs gave out on him. "I've got you." Russell helped Tom onto the sofa and sat beside him, never letting his arm drop from the hybrid's shoulders. "Still think you're going into work today, Tom?" Russell asked sarcastically, pulling Tom tightly against him.

"Russ…, Jesse's going to-."

"Too late for that," Russell muttered, laying one hand over both of Tom's that were trembling pretty badly. "He saw us come in here, and he's going to see more than that because I can't let go of you, can I, Tom?"

Tom raised his head to meet the accusation that he heard in Russell's tone. "Why would that be up to me?"

"Because whether you realize it or not, your wellbeing is reliant entirely on me right now. If you haven't fully recovered, the second I walk away from you I'm going to be bombarded with what I can only describe as a sea of depression and abandonment. Sound familiar? That is what you're feeling right now, isn't it?"

"How…?" Tom gasped, staring at Russell in disbelief.

"Well, now it's not too hard to read you because you're projecting pretty strongly. But, up in the bedroom, that was more difficult to get a handle on because your emotions were all over the place."

Tom felt the back of Russell's knuckles brush against his cheek, wondering why they were wet, until Russell leaned in closer. So close that Tom had to close his eyes because he couldn't focus on the ranger's face. When Russell began to kiss his eyelids, drying his tears, only then did Tom realize that he'd been crying again. "What is wrong with me, Russ?" Was he having a nervous breakdown? Was he mentally unbalanced? Why couldn't he control his emotions anymore? If he left the house in this condition, he would disgrace both himself and his badge.

"First I need you to relax and stop trying to bury whatever it is you're feeling. It's only making it worse. After you've calmed down, I need you to tell me everything you know about Christina and Derek, and the bond that they shared."

* * *

Back in the kitchen, Russell purposely avoided looking at Jesse who was sitting back at the kitchen table with a serious, guarded expression. He kept his eyes on the frying pan instead, expertly flipping four sunny side up eggs onto four individual plates. Switching off the gas burner for the first frying pan – trust Tom to have all the best modern appliances – he let the bacon sizzle in the second pan for another few seconds before dishing out two slices per plate. He finished each plate off with two slices of buttered toast and carried them over to the table, two at a time, to feed his hungry family. Without any hesitation, he included Tom in the family category; he couldn't go on denying just how precious the hybrid was to him.

Tom was sitting at the head of the table, no doubt in his favorite chair, with Rose in his lap. She was talking animatedly to him about what her cat Carlita had been up to this afternoon. The hybrid looked fairly normal again, if not utterly worn out from the repeated stress of his emotional breakdowns. Counting the one from yesterday at the beach, Russell surmised that Tom had experienced a total of four attacks so far. And those were only the ones he knew of. The last two had been quite intense, leading Russell to fear what might happen if they continued to escalate.

The talk about Christina and Derek had presented no new information. At least nothing that Russell didn't already know. Everything that had happened in the last few weeks was new to Tom. The violence. The pack instincts. The bizarre pregnancies. From a purely medical standpoint, Russell probably understood more about what was driving the hybrids than Tom did. But because he only had theories to work with, he was reluctant to share his ideas with Tom. Not until he was absolutely sure.

"Rosie, sit down and eat your breakfast," Tom gently scolded when Russell's little girl squirmed off of his lap and rushed over to the kitchen window above the sink. She grabbed onto the edge of the sink and tried to jump up to see out the window.

Russell grinned, watching Tom ineffectually try to get Rose to sit back down. He had known for a while that Tom was far too soft on the children, allowing Kira to walk all over him, and not having the courage to put Jesse in line. He had summed it up to bad parenting in the past, but now he could see that Tom was just afraid of the kids not liking him.

Only two people called his daughter Rosie. Tom… and Larkin. Once again pushing Larkin to the back of his mind, Russell served Tom and Jesse their mid evening breakfast before pulling out a chair in front of his own.

"Rosie," Tom called again. "What are you looking for?"

"Daddy-Tom, I think Carlita is in the tree again," she whined, looking from Tom to the window, and then back to Tom again. "And it's getting dark."

"I'll get her after we eat," Tom promised.

"Since when can you climb trees?" Russell asked in amusement.

"Climbing a tree doesn't require any special techniques or qualifications, Russ," Tom said, sounding awfully indignant. "I'm sure that not all of your ranger colleagues are capable of – or in the best of shape for – climbing trees."

It didn't take Russell long to guess that Tom was referring to the new guy down at Ranger Station 8. Something Reynolds. For the life of him, Russell couldn't remember Reynold's first name. He only knew that the podgy old guy liked to give Tom a hard time with rules and regulations when the Homestead Sheriff's Department needed to get access to the glades. The Everglades National Park Rangers were always bickering with Sheriff Tom Underlay and his deputies over something or other. If it wasn't about who should get the jurisdiction over a murder that had taken place in the glades – not that murders were exactly common in a backwater town like Homestead – it was about the sidelong glance one party had given another. And even when the insults were flying, Russell knew that Tom could be counted on to ease the tension and come up with a compromise that left everyone satisfied. Even the military was not immune to Tom's powers of persuasion because he had managed to hold them at bay for a considerable amount of time as well.

So what was it about Tom that was able to abate the violent impulses of other hybrids, as well as influence normal men wielding guns?

"Well, I'm sure that you're in good enough shape for it," Russell commented off-handedly, imagining that lean body expertly ascending the old oak tree in the backyard.

At the other end of the table, Jesse muttered something under his breath and shoved his half-eaten meal away.

"Son, what's up?" Russell asked gamely, preparing himself for a rant on how boring it was for Jesse to stay home babysitting Rose when Kira was out gallivanting somewhere with Lewis.

"Can you stop flirting with Tom? It's like so obvious! And the worst part is that you aren't even trying to hide it. What about Larkin? What are you doing to find her?"

Tom choked on his coffee, shooting Russell an alarmed look.

"There are things going on here that you don't understand," Russell began.

Jesse pushed back his chair to glare at Russell. "I understand what kissing means, Dad. And you were kissing Tom. On the sofa. I saw you!"

Rose looked from Jesse, to her dad, to Tom in confusion. "Tom, take Rose to the backyard to find her cat," Russell said firmly. "Jesse and I need to have ourselves a talk."

"But-."

"Backyard, please."

"Rosie, come on. Let's look for Carlita." Tom led the little girl out of the kitchen, leaving the parenting to Russell for a change.

* * *

 **Please let me know what you thought of this part. :)**


	6. An easy target

**Author's note: Thanks again for the very encouraging reviews! I have been up to all hours with this chapter and have edited it numerous times. I decided to just post it because I'm spending far too much time on it and need to continue with chapter 7.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: An easy target**

"Daddy-Tom, be careful," Rose shouted up the tree, pulling at her long brown hair fretfully. "Don't fall!"

Tom had the good sense not to teach Russell's baby girl that it was bad luck to shout such things and it almost always had the opposite effect. It would be difficult to explain what it meant to jinx someone to a girl of Rose's age. The questions would never stop coming after that, especially with someone so inquisitive. Tom got along so well with Rose; he always had. She was young and perceptive, and not in any way judgmental. Free of any prejudices. She had liked Tom for _who_ he was, not suspecting _what_ he was in the beginning.

Before Mariel's discovery of her original body in the water, Tom had never thought of himself as anything other than blessed for surviving that plane crash. The idea that he had somehow been replaced by an alien/human body infused with all his original memories had been thoroughly upsetting. Traumatizing even. There were still days when Tom looked in the mirror, refusing to accept what he now knew to be true.

Another few branches towards the top of the old oak, Tom paused to brush off his hands on his trousers. The climbing part didn't bother him as much as the scrape of the rough bark on his hands, or the telltale sensation of ants marching over his fingers. The ants part might have only been his overactive imagination. After all, it really was too difficult to make out anything moving on the branches in the fading dusk light. He was positive that Russell wouldn't have noticed the ants, or cared about scratches and calluses. And that's why the occupation of park ranger suited Russell so well, while Tom was perfectly satisfied patrolling the town roads in his cruiser.

"I've almost got her, Rosie," Tom called down to Rose. Then, to the fat orange cat that was clinging to a branch nearby, back arched and tail waving menacingly in the air, he began to gently beckon to her. "Come on, Carlita. Nice kitty. Let's get you out of this tree and back into the house."

"Daddy-Tom, I don't think Carlita understands English."

Well, that was fine because Tom didn't speak Cat.

Amazingly, the fat bundle of fur allowed Tom to scoop her up with one arm, refraining from digging her claws into him on the way down. It could be that she was getting used to the routine of treeing herself and looked forward to seeing Tom make a fool of himself by coming up after her. Mainly because this was only the third time this month that he'd been up the tree playing fireman saves cat. Tom carefully made his way down the tree, from branch to branch, keeping an eye on where he placed his grip. Although he would have done just about anything to make Rose happy, he silently hoped that none of the neighbors were peering out their windows to see the town sheriff up in a tree with a cat.

At the bottom of the tree, Tom was especially careful because it was a bit of a drop. Sensing that Carlita was getting ready to spring, Tom let her leap down to the ground on her own. He lowered himself to the ground, letting go of the last branch… and was struck on the right side of the head. His head exploded with pain, causing him to lose both his vision and his balance. He heard a muffled shriek and the hiss of a spooked cat before he fell to the ground. His hand automatically went to the injury, pressing against his temple and cringing at the sting of pain and the wetness of blood. Damp moisture from the grass seeped into his left pant leg and the left sleeve of his shirt where he had fallen.

"Get him up," a distorted voice ordered.

Tom was yanked to his feet and held still by two separate pairs of hands. Everything spun wildly for a moment before he was able to regain his equilibrium. He blinked back the fuzziness impairing his vision and desperately scanned his field of vision for Rose. Before he could shout her name, a meaty hand clamped over his mouth and nose, either trying to silence him or suffocate him. Tom struggled in vain, not knowing how many there were or what their motive was. His utility belt was still in the house, on the back of his chair, along with his gun. Not that it would have done him any good because he couldn't pull free from his attackers.

"If you scream or resist in any way, we'll kill the girl," the same masculine voice threatened.

Despite the threat and the fact that his vision was blurred, Tom began to panic, struggling harder to escape. These men had trespassed onto his property and subdued a six-year old girl. The law enforcer in him highly doubted that they wouldn't hurt Rose if she cried out or tried to bolt. That they had even dared to put their hands on her in the first place made Tom livid with anger.

"Take him to the van. If he keeps that up, break both his legs."

"You hear that, _hybrid_? You're as good as dead," a lighter voice laughed by his right ear. "We're gonna take you apart, piece by piece." A finger poked roughly into Tom's sternum, dragging straight down to his abdomen. "Gonna cut you open and gut you like a fish. See what's inside."

Tom shivered, trying hard not to visualize what his attacker was describing. However, unbidden, the memory of seeing those hybrids being cut open and experimented on back at the military base flashed in Tom's mind. He immediately felt sick, remembering how one hybrid had been sliced open straight down the middle and stitched back up again.

Hearing what may have been a muted sob somewhere in front of him, Tom instinctively pulled in that direction. The hand over his mouth grabbed on tighter as the heel of a heavy boot kicked the back of Tom's right calf brutally hard. Tom screamed, the sound smothered by his attacker's hand, and sank to his left knee. He squeezed his eyes shut against the agony of his muscle constricting, the sensation traveling down to his foot and into his toes.

"Do that again and I'll rip your tendons out," the same man on the right promised, following Tom down to the ground, still holding on tightly.

"Why don't we just kill him here?" The man on the left asked.

"Because then we wouldn't have something for the others to kick the shit out of, idiot. Now, I don't care if you have to carry him or drag him. Just get him into the van! And then we torch his house."

"He'll be easier to move if he's not awake for it."

Tom heard what sounded like a metal bar being whacked into the palm of a hand, and then felt the whoosh of air by his face as it was swung above his head. He felt true terror in that instant, knowing that the blow to his skull would most likely kill him. He would die having failed Rose and never having had the chance to truly know what it would be like to be with Russell.

A shot rang out suddenly, followed by a sharp yelp of pain. And then the dull metallic thump of a crowbar hitting the ground. There was a lot of commotion around him, and then the sound of Rose crying. Punches being thrown. A body hitting the tree. Tires squealing as the van that the men had come in fled the scene of the crime. And through it all, the hand never left his mouth, but something cold pressed up against his throat. He felt a sharp pinprick of blood and tensed all over. Now that his arms were no longer being held back, Tom reached for the hand at his throat, the motion aborted when the knife pricked him again. "You touch my arm and I slit your throat," the man warned. Tom dropped his arms back at his sides, feeling unbearably helpless and afraid. He knew the man meant to kill him whether he fought back or not.

"Let him go!" Russell's voice, shaking with fury, shouted at the man restraining him.

"You've got your girl back. Just go back inside and enjoy the rest of your meal. What do you care what happens to him?" The man laughed at Russell like he was an idiot. "Isn't he responsible for what happened to your wife?"

"He had nothing to do with what happened to Larkin!"

"But I'm going to have a lot to do with what happens to him."

"If you've hurt him, so help me…" Russell could barely speak he was so filled with rage.

"Does this look like it hurt?" The man released Tom's mouth to grasp him by his hair, forcing his head up so that Russell could get a good look at the bloody gash being pistol-whipped had left behind.

"I'm going to say this once more. Either you let him go or my son over there is going to put a bullet in you."

Tom couldn't turn to see what was going on behind him but he could hear the sound of a trigger being pulled back. And the glint of metal in Russell's hands was unmistakable out of the corner of his eye.

"Daddy-Tom!" Rose cried out from somewhere behind Russell.

The blade at Tom's throat slid down to his breastbone, now with the tip pointing inwards. Tom tried to remain still but found himself trembling uncontrollably as the knife settled between two of his ribs and the pressure increased. He couldn't back away from it, not with the man pressed up against him from behind. That was all it took to keep him in place because he was too dizzy to put up much of a fight.

"You shoot me and I stab him through the heart. Or you let me go and I'll drop him off somewhere. More or less intact."

The man's sarcastic humor only served to fuel Russell's anger. "You're not taking him anywhere!" Not taking his eyes off of Tom's frightened blue ones, Russell shouted at his son. "Jesse, take the shot!"

There was no pause or hesitation on Jesse's part. The gun let out a loud retort and the man holding the knife to Tom jerked backwards with a startled grunt. Nearly simultaneously, Russell charged forward, grabbing the man by his wrist and twisting it mercilessly. The knife fell harmlessly to the ground and the hand that had been gripping Tom's hair released him. Tom shakily let out the breath that he'd been holding in and painfully held the side of his head. But Russell wasn't finished. He pulled Tom against him with one arm and swung the crowbar down with the other, breaking the man's shoulder. A broken cry of pain and a plea for mercy soon followed.

"Rose, go inside! Jesse, help Tom up and take him inside, too!" Russell carefully lowered Tom back down onto the grass and advanced on Tom's attacker again.

The sound of small footsteps darted across the grass, accompanied by Rose's frightened sobbing.

Tom quickly surveyed the backyard, not surprised to find two of his attackers lying bloody and beaten on the grass. He wondered how much of that had been Russell and how much Jesse. One of the men had a bullet wound to the leg. The man who had held the knife on him also had a clean shot through the shoulder. Either Russell had been teaching Jesse how to use a gun properly or the kid was a natural sharpshooter.

"Tom, come on." Jesse tucked the gun – Tom's service pistol - into the back of his pants and tried to lift Tom off of the ground.

Tom gritted his teeth and moaned in pain, unable to put any weight onto his right leg. Although he was fairly slender and not very heavy, he could still tell that Jesse was having trouble lifting him. Russell's son was pretty strong, but he had never had to lift a grown man before. He didn't know where to put his hands or how to brace himself for the extra weight. He was also pulling on Tom's left arm when Tom actually needed support on the right. "Jesse… stop," Tom pleaded when the pain became too much for him.

A grunt of pain brought Tom's attention back to Russell. He looked over to where Russell was pounding the knife-wielding man on the ground and froze. He had never seen the park ranger so infuriated, so unhinged. And the emotions rolling off of him were so potent they were nearly tangible.

"—see how you like it!" Russell was growling, bashing the man's face in again and again with his fists.

Tom shoved Jesse away from him and shouted to Russell. "Russ, stop!" The hatred was almost too much to bear. The need to inflict pain. The need to kill. Tom looked at Russell in shock. He could actually feel what Russell was feeling. As surely as he could hear the park ranger's knuckles connecting with flesh and bone. "Russ!" It was no secret that Russell had a bad temper; Tom could attest to that with no problem. And he had seen Russell's criminal record so he knew what the man was capable of. But having knowledge of Russell's violent streak and seeing it in action were two completely different things.

"He. Hurt. You." Russell shouted back, punctuating each word with another lethal punch to the face. "I'm not going to let him hurt you again. Ever!"

"Jesse, stop him!"

"Dad…" Jesse looked uncertain, too afraid to approach his dad for the murderous look in his eyes.

"Russell, stop!"

Russell whirled around to narrow his brown eyes on Tom, his knuckles covered in blood. "He was going to _kill_ you!"

"You don't know that…," Tom protested weakly.

"Don't lie to me! _You_ felt it," Russell accused. "I felt your fear. I can still feel your fear."

"Please, Russ… just take a step back and calm down." Tom attempted to push himself up to get to Russell but ended up back on the grass, wincing in pain. The look on Russell's face grew darker, more dangerous, as he watched Tom lying there on his side, his blondish-brown hair matted with blood.

"Don't tell me to calm down! If they had gotten you into that van, they wouldn't have shown you any mercy!" Russell punched the man again, making Jesse jump and Tom curse.

"Jesse, go inside," Tom urged, sensing that this was not going to end well. "Russ, you have to stop! You know the law and you're perfectly aware that as the sheriff of this town I have to uphold it. Don't make me-."

Russell drove his fist into the man's face one last time, the sound of impact much louder than the last had been. He stood over the body for a moment, verifying that the man was indeed dead, before he backed off, wiping his knuckles off on his jeans. Then he knelt down to Tom. Jesse stood a ways back, trying to reconcile the scene in front of him with the peaceful father that he knew and loved.

"Don't think for one second that I'm going to let someone who threatened your life walk away just so they can try it again sometime in the future," Russell breathed heavily as he touched his shaking fingers to Tom's face. "And don't preach to me about upholding the law when you've bent it to suit your needs more times than I can count. You killed that deputy of yours because he threatened to kill Kira. You killed to protect someone you loved. And I just did the same." He watched as Tom reacted to his roundabout confession. Those beautiful blue eyes that he adored widened in disbelief, searching his face for any trace of deception. "I came out here with Jesse because I could sense your pain and your fear. Because of the bond that we share." Russell pressed the palm of his hand against Tom's temple to stop the bleeding, beginning to check him over for any other injuries. "The bond that _you_ initiated."

"I didn't… Russ, I don't know how to do such a thing… and even if I did, I would never have done it without your consent," Tom protested. He wasn't prepared for the accusation after Russell had just seemingly professed his love for him. And why wasn't Russell concerned about displaying such blatant signs of affection in front of his son?

"Only hybrids are capable of forming bonds. We both know that." Russell nodded to Jesse to go inside and find the first aid kit. "A bond makes a hybrid couple stronger. More compatible. Just like it did with Derek and Christina. And seeing as how I'm not a hybrid, that only leaves you as the culprit. I know you didn't do it intentionally because you weren't even aware of it. At least not until I was on the verge of killing that asshole. I know you felt it then because you tried to hold me back from doing it."

As soon as Tom broke eye contact, Russell could feel the turmoil rising in the hybrid – the despair, again. "I'm sorry, Russ. I honestly had no knowledge of this bond, nor was I even aware that it was something that could be consciously established. But… I'll try to break it-."

"No you won't." Russell said sharply, forcing Tom to look at him again. "You need it just as much as you need me, and I need you. I think I've finally figured out what is wrong with you, Tom. I've felt strangely connected to you for the past week or so… and maybe that's how long this bond has been active. But after Larkin, you've been subconsciously trying to sever it because you feel that you need to distance yourself from me. You're afraid of getting hurt… because of the way I've treated you in the past, and I don't blame you." Russell's expression clouded with guilt. "I was a real bastard to you, Tom. I wish I could take back every mean thing I ever said or did to you. But I can't. I can only ask that you give me a second chance. I swear I will never do anything to hurt you again." He gently stroked his thumb over Tom's cheek, waiting for a response.

"What if Larkin…?" Tom couldn't finish his sentence, feeling wretched for even bringing it up.

"This has nothing to do with Larkin anymore. This has to do with you and me. Do you want to be with me, Tom? Yes or no?"

Tom's heart clenched at the thought of rejecting Russell's offer. It wasn't even an option. "Yes. I want to be with you, Russ. I trust you… and I forgive you."

Russell moved in closer to Tom, smiling sadly at him. "How did I ever think that you were capable of any evil?" He covered Tom's mouth with his own, his tongue stealing inside to taste the hybrid. He kept up the pressure on Tom's wound with one hand, sliding the other to the back of Tom's head to hold him still as he deepened the kiss. Tom's arms latched onto his neck, pulling him in closer as the hybrid's tongue teasingly licked at his bottom lip. Russell playfully withdrew his tongue, feeling hot all over when Tom chased it, their tongues tangling briefly before Russell thrust his tongue back inside again. If Tom hadn't been injured… If they had been somewhere private… Russell knew that he wouldn't have had any problem undressing the hybrid, spreading him out, and just doing whatever he wished with him.

"God… Russ…," Tom moaned, hit by a wave of Russell's burning lust.

"You could sense that?" Russell asked breathlessly, dragging his teeth gently over Tom's bottom lip and then sucking it into his mouth.

Instead of replying, Tom gasped and raked his nails over Russell's biceps. He was struck with a mixture of pleasure made blunt by pain.

"Whoa. Easy…" Russell held Tom still when he swayed dizzily. "Jesse is bringing the first aid kit. We'll get you patched up and then go back to my place where we can continue this."

"But your place is-."

"A heap of junk compared to your house? I know," Russell said what he knew Tom would never have the guts to say out loud. "But your house isn't safe anymore, so I'd feel a lot better if you and the kids stayed at my place tonight."

"I was going to say your place is too cramped," Tom corrected, never having thought that Russell's house was anything but endearing and cozy. After all, the park ranger had built the entire place by himself, from the floorboards up.

"But you think the place is dirty," Russell insisted.

"I never said anything like that."

"You always refuse the water we offer you. Like the glasses are dirty or something."

Tom laughed softly as Russell got all riled up. "See. This is how you come up with all your conspiracy theories. You're completely paranoid. I never accept the water because you give it to me while I'm on duty, and your house is out in the middle of nowhere. The closest bathroom is at Ed's Diner, which is an hour away."

"Oh. Is that why?" Russell smirked sheepishly. "You know, I think this is the first time I've ever heard you laugh. It's nice. You should definitely do it more often."

"Hey guys," Jesse called out as he hurried back with the first aid kit. "What're we going to do with them?" He asked, hooking a finger in the direction of the two unconscious men.

"I'll call Lewis and have them picked up." Tom hissed in pain when Russell began to dab at the bloody gash along his temple with the antiseptic.

"It's not too deep. You won't need stitches," Russell determined. "But it's going to leave a bad bruise if we don't get some ice on it."

"Dad, what about the guy you… um… you know," Jesse said uncomfortably.

"Tom?"

"He was threatening to kill me. You acted in my defense, making it a justifiable homicide. It will be a hassle going through the paperwork, and I'll need to be seen by a medical professional other than Mariel to avoid a conflict of interest, but it shouldn't be a problem."

"Are you sure about that? You're not on the best of terms with your deputies at the moment."

"Russ, so long as you don't mention in your statement that you intended to kill the man, you won't be charged with anything. These men trespassed onto my property and knowingly assaulted an officer of the law. As well as threatened a minor. No one will hold you accountable for your actions." Tom relaxed a little once Russell had removed the antiseptic from sight, moving onto the bandages.

"Are you sure you're comfortable with that? You were aware of my intent to kill. You'll have to lie in your statement."

"It wouldn't be the first time," Tom sighed, referring to the car accident he'd had with Deputy Munger. "Just please don't make a habit of it. You have to be more judicious with the crimes you commit. Without my statement corroborating your story, you would be in a lot of trouble, Russ. Especially with your history."

"I'm not going to apologize for protecting you," Russell insisted.

"I'm not expecting you to. You're quite intimidating when you lose your temper."

"I'm not _that_ bad."

"Yeah, you're right. You're much worse," Jesse complained. "Scared the shit out of me."

"Watch your mouth, son," Russell warned. "And don't copy my example. Killing should always be a last resort. But having said that, you do whatever you have to in order to protect your family. Do you hear me? Anything." He began to roll up Tom's pant leg, running his fingers carefully over the hybrid's calf.

"Oww! That hurts," Tom complained.

"It could be just badly bruised, or you may have torn a muscle. Either way, I'm taking you to the hospital to get seen to. Jesse, get some ice and then help Rose get her stuff ready. We're going back to my place after the hospital."

* * *

 **As always, reviews are appreciated and returned with virtual hugs! :)**


	7. Catharsis

**Author's note: This chapter is nearly twice as long as the others because I felt it necessary to buffer some of the more colorful content. Please be warned that this chapter contains sexually explicit scenes and should not be read in the presence of others or at work.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Catharsis**

After Tom had received professional treatment at the hospital for his injuries, and the situation had been explained to Lewis over the phone – Tom's right-hand man was on the outskirts of town responding to minor complaints with Kira - Russell drove back to his house. By the time they arrived, it was quite late and pitch black outside. Russell's house was built on a large expanse of land right off the glades, so there weren't any other houses or buildings anywhere in sight. And no streetlamps to guide the way.

Surprisingly, when Russell pulled into the gravel-covered area in front of his house that was passing off as a driveway, he noticed that all the lights on the first floor were on.

"Dave must be taking advantage of the vacant house," Russell mused as he parked Tom's range rover. "Jesse, can you get the bags? And help your sister with that cat." He got out of the vehicle and went over to the passenger's side to help Tom out. "I've got you," he said reassuringly after he had wrapped his arm firmly around Tom's slim waist. "Put your arm over my shoulder." He half lifted Tom out of the car, making sure that the hybrid didn't put his right foot down. According to the hospital, the calf muscle was torn and Tom would need to stay off it for at least one or two weeks. But Russell was hopeful that it wouldn't take that long for Tom's accelerated healing to repair the damage. Especially not after Tom had stubbornly refused the crutches that the hospital had strongly recommended he use for the time being. "How's the pain?"

"Manageable. Doctor Cranston prescribes much stronger painkillers than Mariel. Are you sure Dave isn't going to have a problem with me being here?"

"He's usually a pretty reasonable guy, when he's not playing cowboys and aliens in his head. He was just upset and probably didn't mean half the things he said last night." Russell had explained the situation to Tom beforehand, just in case Dave actually had meant what he'd said. "And anyway, this is my house so if he has a problem with you, I'm going to have a problem with him."

"Daddy-Tom, I'll open the door for you," Rose offered helpfully, racing over to pull open the weather-warped screen door. She had been really shaken up over the incident in the backyard, but a big bowl of ice cream and a lot of hugs and attention had managed to calm her down. At least temporarily. She had gone through a horrible ordeal that most adults would have trouble processing and would most likely need some form of counseling once things settled down. Also, neither Russell nor Tom wanted her left anywhere unattended from now on.

"Thanks, Rosie." Tom limped to the door, leaning heavily on Russell. "Are you sure there's going to be enough room after Lewis drops off Kira and Mariel gets off work?"

"Barely, but we'll figure something out."

The door was unlocked so Rose flung it open, holding the screen door for Russell and Tom to get in, Jesse close behind them with all the bags and a pink cat carrier.

No sooner had they crossed the threshold than they were confronted with a ghost. A petite, brown haired, brown eyed apparition back from the dead. She stood in their path – barefoot and without any makeup - dressed in a loose, flowery dress without a scratch on her.

"Larkin!" Russell exclaimed in amazement. "You're okay!"

"Larkin!" Jesse and Rose shouted at the same time.

"Hello Russell." Larkin smiled thinly but didn't move towards him. She diverted her attention to Tom, the shadow of a smile disappearing to be replaced with curiosity. "What happened?"

Tom could only stare at Larkin, too choked up for words, the trauma of having been forced to give her up to the water still freshly painful in his mind.

While Tom remained speechless, Russell's gaze surreptitiously traced the outline of his wife's silhouette. Whereas she had been beginning to show before she'd been shot, her abdomen was now completely flat, as if she had never been pregnant at all. Her posture was rigid and her expression tense, as if she was expecting to be thrown into battle.

"I tried calling. Several times." Dave left the kitchen area where he had been filling a big bowl with popcorn. "Nobody answered." He was practically beaming from ear to ear, overjoyed to have his sister back safe and sound. It no longer seemed to matter that she had come back a hybrid or missing a fetus. She was alive. And that's all he had been praying for. "What happened to Tom?"

Russell kept his eyes locked on Larkin, but his arm around Tom, dreading what might happen if he went to his wife's side. But his concern was not for Larkin; it was for Tom. He had already made his choice and as callous as it might be, he had to stand by it. He was done with making others feel good at Tom's expense. "He was attacked in the backyard by some hybrids," he replied absently. He knew that Larkin deserved some sort of explanation before he flung his new relationship in her face. However, he wasn't willing to risk Tom having another emotional breakdown by letting go of him in favor of Larkin.

"They weren't hybrids," Tom said quietly, trying to get used to the new hybrid aura that Larkin was giving off. It was unusual and distinct, but incredibly powerful. He had never encountered a hybrid like this before, at least not since Szura.

"They weren't?" Russell questioned in surprise.

Tom leaned heavier on Russell, getting tired of standing there with most of his weight distributed onto his left leg, his right arm going numb around Russell's neck. "You sound disappointed."

"No, I just assumed because… It's a long story. We'll discuss it later." Picking up on Tom's discomfort, Russell helped him over to the sofa and sat down beside him. When he sensed how uneasy Tom was becoming, he placed his hand on the hybrid's knee, instantly calming him. "Larkin, when did you… get back?"

Larkin bent down to ruffle Rose's hair and then sat down in the armchair on Tom's side. She pretended not to notice when Tom shifted closer to Russell. "A couple of hours ago and I feel great! Better than I've ever felt. So we can skip the 'how are you' questions. I owe you my life, Tom. If you hadn't taken me to the water, I probably would've died." She reached over to lay a comradely hand on Tom's shoulder, which he discreetly shrugged off. "And don't blame yourself for the baby. I felt it die long before you reached the beach."

A small smile was all Tom could offer in response to Larkin's grateful, if not unemotional, speech. Of course he was happy and relieved that she had been accepted by one of the creatures in the water and had survived her transformation. It was her overbearing aura and the casual way she referred to her baby's death that made him feel uncomfortable.

Russell was also none too pleased to hear Larkin talk about their baby as if it had been something of no consequence. Whether he intended to break up with her or not, that unborn child had been half his and he felt the loss keenly.

An awkward silence stretched over the next couple of minutes before Larkin spoke again. "I think the transition went well. I may have been the only hybrid who came out of it knowing what to expect. As soon as I came to on the beach, I knew what I was. I felt the changes in my body. And I sensed others like myself. Just like I can sense you now, Tom." She still continued to ignore Russell, not paying much attention to Jesse, Rose, or Dave either. "But, I would be careful around other hybrids if I were you." She stood up, her eyes fixated on the glass of water that Jesse had in his hand.

"You saw Tom's cruiser?" Russell asked, thinking that she was referring to the vandalism.

"What's wrong with my cruiser?" Tom asked anxiously. No one had bothered to tell him about the damage or the threats that had been spray painted all over it.

"I don't know anything about Tom's car." Her attention wavered between the glass of water, which Jesse hastily passed to her, and Tom. "What I meant was that Tom needs to be careful because he's _different_."

"Different how?" Russell couldn't help but feel like this Larkin was a complete stranger to him. She had just casually brushed aside the death of their unborn child and moved onto the next topic as if she were discussing a shopping list. And there was something odd about the way that Tom was keeping her in front of him at all times. If she moved to the right, Tom mirrored her new position, always ensuring that she never got into his peripheral vision. So how would Tom react if she crept up behind him? Somehow, Russell just knew that he didn't want to find out.

For the first time since they had sat down, Larkin glanced in Russell's direction. Keeping her stony gaze on him, she proceeded to drain the glass of water, her throat barely moving as she swallowed it all down.

"Larkin, can you please be more specific?" Tom waited for Larkin to focus on him, but she seemed to be more interested in the jug of ice water that Dave had placed onto the coffee table in front of her.

"She's been like this ever since she got back," he said apologetically. "I think she's super thirsty, or something."

After Larkin had refilled her glass, she got up and moved to the armchair on Russell's side. Predictably, Tom pushed away from that side, having trouble moving with his injured leg. Larkin subtly raised an eyebrow at Tom, as if she thought his behavior was comical. And the protective way that Russell maneuvered himself in front of Tom seemed to amuse her even more. It took a few more gulps of water to coax her into speaking again.

"The other hybrids I passed in town. They were either one or the other. But you're neither. You're _different_ ," she repeated, as if she were going out of her way to be as cryptic as possible. "And in a small town like Homestead, you should know by now that being different is bad."

Was that a threat? Or a warning?

The old Larkin had been pretty good at making threats of her own. Like the time she had threatened to expose Tom to the media after he had been shot and was lying in a hospital bed fighting for his life. It had taken a lot of convincing for her to back down and Russell had never really forgiven her for it afterwards.

"Russ, I'm kind of tired. Can we pick up this discussion again in the morning?"

Russell looked over to where Tom was sitting on edge beside him, tracking Larkin's every move with his bleary eyes. Tired was an understatement. He could feel the exhaustion from the attack along with the effects of the strong medication Tom had been prescribed taking its toll on the hybrid. Whatever game Larkin was playing, Tom was in no condition to play along. "That sounds like a good idea." Then to Larkin, he said, "Do you mind if Tom takes the bed tonight? The sofa would be bad for his leg."

Larkin's gaze flickered to the way Russell was squeezing Tom's good knee and then back to Tom's face. "Not at all." But as Russell was helping Tom up, Larkin made an offhand comment that made the park ranger feel like his face and neck were on fire. "If you're going to be sleeping with him, you'd better keep the noise levels down. Wouldn't want to wake up the kids."

Russell exchanged a worried look with his son, noticing that Tom was too drowsy to pick up on the innuendo. He and Jesse had had a good man-to-man talk in the kitchen - before Tom had been attacked – about how much Tom meant to him, and how he would be pursuing a relationship with the hybrid. Jesse had promised to accept Russell's new relationship with Tom, so long as his father remained upfront and honest with him. Part of the reason for his sympathetic response was that he still felt guilty about badmouthing Tom to his friends in school. Being raised to be open-minded also played a large part in how understanding he was of his father's decision to take on a male partner. So, Jesse's reaction was directed more at Larkin's loose lips than his father's attraction to Tom. But Dave's reaction turned out to be a bit more volatile.

"Larkin, what are you talking about?" Dave demanded to know, sounding suspicious and angry as he gauged the secret look that Russell exchanged with his son. "Why would Russell sleep with Tom?"

"Why does anyone sleep with another person?" Larkin answered his question with another question, as if testing Russell to see how far he could be pushed before he stopped playing ignorant and owned up to what he had done.

"I'm not dealing with this crap right now," Russell said directly to Larkin, keeping his voice steady so as not to frighten Rose. Tom was barely conscious, but his distress levels were rising again as he reacted to the drama unfolding in the living room. "We should have had this conversation a while ago, Larkin, but now is a bad time for it. For everyone. Don't get me wrong. I'm relieved to see that you're okay. But Tom isn't okay, and he is my top priority right now."

"Hey, man, your wife just came back from the dead!" Dave reprimanded Russell with his severe tone, unable to believe that his brother-in-law hadn't denied what he'd just been accused of.

"Soon to be ex-wife," Larkin added unemotionally.

"Are you kidding me?! You're seriously choosing-."

"Think carefully before you finish that sentence," Russell warned. He would not tolerate anymore hurtful slurs against Tom, even from the likes of Dave. Dave had been the instigator of all the damaging rumors about Tom, but he had never actually said anything bad to the hybrid's face. Russell was pretty sure that Tom wouldn't be able to handle the uncensored version of Dave's thoughts on 'pod people'.

Either Dave had the common sense not to challenge Russell, or he was too angry to get the insults out of his mouth, because he just stood there with his fists at his sides. Russell turned away from him and led Tom to the stairs.

"Dad, do you need help?" Jesse asked, not wanting to be left in the living room with a bizarre Larkin or a riled up Dave.

"Yeah, can you bring our bags upstairs? And help Rose get ready for bed."

* * *

Once Russell had been left alone with Tom in the master bedroom, he started pulling frilly cushions and other Larkin-centric articles off of the bed. His bedroom was a vivid contrast to Tom's minimalistic attempt at tranquility. Whereas Tom's bedroom had been layered with subdued monotones and earthy hues, without a pattern in sight, Russell's sleeping area was filled with mismatched floral curtains that clashed with tropical sheets and cushions that had been bought separately – and had nothing in common except for how garishly loud they were. A lot of the furniture was handmade, each lopsided board measured, cut, and sanded down by Russell himself. But the additional stools and chair, and the small bedside stand, Larkin had picked up at a garage sale. So, the furniture wasn't exactly in harmony with the textiles, which in turn clashed with the odd ornaments that cluttered up the room.

"Not what you expected?" Russell asked, eyeing Tom who was sitting tentatively on the edge of the bed and visibly cringing. He was relieved to see that the hybrid was looking a lot livelier now that Larkin had been removed from his presence. Being in the same room with Larkin had been sapping Tom's strength and making him defensive. With no logical explanation to tie Tom's physical and mental state with Larkin's sudden appearance, the whole thing remained a mystery. A mystery on top of mysteries.

"I don't want to be offensive," Tom said delicately.

"Come on, Tom. It's not like you to not be offensive." The bed hadn't been used since the hurricane and the pillowcases felt a little damp, so Russell stripped them off and replaced them with something more modern.

"Just because it's on sale doesn't mean you have to buy it," Tom blurted out, distastefully shoving a neon-striped cushion onto the floor.

"I didn't pick the cushions, but I disagree with you about sale items. Half this stuff gets ruined every time a hurricane passes through here, so I don't see the point in wasting money on brand name furnishings."

"That wouldn't be a problem if you hired a professional to redo your roof."

Russell groaned and dug into his duffel bag, pulling out Tom's pajamas. He tossed them at the hybrid and continued to tidy up the general vicinity of the bed. "I know you're just trying to be helpful, but sometimes your advice comes off as criticism." When Tom made no attempt to put his pajamas on, Russell stared at him. "What?"

"Do you mind?"

"Seriously? I saw your naked ass this afternoon – which I really appreciated by the way - and now you start to get all modest on me?" Russell held his tongue when Tom began to fidget nervously with his pajamas. "Okay, I'm turning around." He kept his back to Tom as he cleared off Larkin's bedside table, carefully moving her trinkets over to the dresser.

"Okay," Tom said after a minute or two, giving Russell permission to turn around again.

Russell sat beside Tom on the bed, taking the hybrid's hands into his own. He admired Tom's expensive, slate-grey cotton pajamas, which flattered his skin tone and really emphasized just how blue his eyes were. Having seen Tom in the drier winter months – and naked while undressing him - Russell knew that the hybrid was naturally fair skinned. But during the wet season, with all the sunshine and humidity, Tom either tanned or got burnt quite easily. There were still several months left to the extended summer season, so the hybrid wouldn't be losing his healthy tan anytime soon.

"I don't know what you think I'm expecting, Tom, but I'm sleeping with you tonight just to make sure you're okay. I'm not going to pressure you into doing anything you don't want to do." Russell lifted one hand up to Tom's bandaged temple, checking to make sure the tape wouldn't come off during the night.

"Sorry, I don't know why I'm so nervous," Tom apologized, feeling like an idiot.

"It probably has something to do with us sharing a bed. And this time you have a say in it, so if you want me to leave…"

"No, I want you to stay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Russ…?"

Russell felt his heart freeze when Tom looked at him sadly, not accustomed to the hybrid letting his emotions show on his face. "What is it?"

Tom lowered his gaze and swallowed hard, not really knowing how to express what he was feeling. "I'm sorry… about your baby."

Russell hugged Tom, appreciative of the compassion he heard in the hybrid's voice, but being careful to keep his own emotions concerning the baby hidden from the hybrid. He didn't want to burden Tom with his conflicted feelings on the loss of his unborn child. Of course there was a large part of him that was in mourning over such a personal tragedy. But another smaller part remained completely unaffected. What would Tom think if he discovered that Russell was partially relieved that he had been released from any future obligations to Larkin?

"Thanks. But it wasn't your fault. So don't go blaming yourself again." Russell patted Tom's hand and got up to rummage through the duffel bag some more, needing something to keep his mind occupied with. He began pulling out the hybrid's personal care products – shampoo, conditioner, face wash, shaving cream, aftershave, a silver tip badger shaving brush... Did Tom even grow enough facial hair to justify the purchase of so many excessive products? There wasn't a single item that didn't bear the logo of a famous, high-end company on it. Thank goodness Tom was gainfully employed. Since Russell's indefinite suspension, he had begun to worry about how he was going to make a living if the Everglades National Park didn't reinstate him. He wouldn't have been able to afford someone as high maintenance as Tom, with or without his job, so for once he was actually happy that the hybrid earned a substantial amount more than him. "Oh, good. You brought your own toothbrush."

"Why wouldn't I bring my own toothbrush?" Tom asked in bewilderment.

"I don't know. It's easy to forget when you're in a hurry."

Tom suddenly narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Russell. "Russ, did you use my toothbrush this afternoon?" That would explain why he had found his toothbrush haphazardly lying face down on the opposite side of the sink from where he usually kept it.

"I hadn't planned on sleeping over at your house. It's no big deal, really. We kissed how many times? Same thing." Russell laughed when Tom continued to look at him like he was an uncivilized barbarian. "Okay, I won't touch your toothbrush again. I promise. Or your deodorant." He playfully tousled Tom's hair to get him to lighten up.

"You're welcome to borrow my razor," Tom offered innocently, reaching over to stroke the dark, coarse beard that Russell had been too lazy to trim back in the past few days.

"I thought you liked my wild look." Russell rubbed the stubble of his cheek against Tom's smooth jaw, kissing the hybrid there when he shivered from the bristling sensation. "I think that I've just proven my point. The beard stays. But I'll take that imported badger brush if you don't want it."

Tom kissed Russell back and good-naturedly placed the brush into the park ranger's hand. "It's yours."

Russell was on the verge of politely refusing because he couldn't possibly accept something so expensive for no reason. But something about Tom's expression told him that not accepting the impromptu gift would hurt the hybrid's feelings, so he just graciously accepted it. Anyway, it was a really nice brush and Russell had been coveting one for a while now. It had to be a drastic improvement over the discount synthetic brush that he had picked up at the drugstore two years ago. The fact that Tom had used it first was just an added bonus.

* * *

After they had both taken turns in the washroom, with Tom kicking Russell out when the park ranger tried to linger by the sink while he was brushing his teeth, they turned in for the night.

As Russell's eyes began to adjust to the darkness, he gazed over at Tom who was lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. The atmosphere had sunk into a somber inertia once they had climbed under the sheets. Even the air seemed to have stopped circulating. It definitely had something to do with the heavy thoughts that were plaguing Tom's mind. "What're you thinking about?"

"Larkin…" Tom sounded contemplative, as if he were trying to figure something out.

"You can sense aggression in hybrids, right?"

"Not always, but often." One of the few times Tom hadn't been able to sense a potential threat in a hybrid had sent him to the emergency room with three bullet wounds to the back and a lifetime of trauma.

"Do you think Larkin is a danger to the kids?"

Tom was silent for a moment, hesitant to jump to conclusions. "I don't think so. I didn't pick up on any aggression directed at Jesse or Rose."

"Is she a danger to you?" When Tom didn't answer, Russell leaned onto his elbow to study the hybrid's conflicted expression. "Tom?"

"I don't know."

"Do you know what she was talking about when she said there are three types of hybrids? You're different from the other two? How? Why?"

"I honestly have no idea. If I did, I wouldn't be giving myself another headache trying to solve her irritating puzzle. Think about it. I can sense others, but I obviously can't sense myself, so if I were _different_ as Larkin says I am, I would be the last to know."

"Okay… and what was going on down there between you two? It was like watching a game of cat and mouse."

"Russ, I'm tired."

"Okay." Russell let the matter drop and lay back for another few minutes, feeling his frustration mounting. The need to touch Tom and hold him close was overwhelming. He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to quell his indecent urges. Beside him, Tom's breathing was inaudible, meaning that he wasn't asleep yet either. Finally giving up a fraction of his restraint, Russell rolled over to face Tom and whispered desperately to him. "Tom, I want to hold you in my arms while you sleep," he pleaded, stretching his arm out over the pillow in invitation. Tom responded, almost shyly, moving into the space that Russell had made for him. The hybrid lay his head down in the crook of Russell's neck, his blondish-brown hair soft against Russell's scruffy chin. Russell wrapped his arms around the hybrid's back and waist, squeezing that lean body even closer until there was nothing but Tom's pajamas and Russell's boxer-briefs between them. "Comfortable?"

"Yes," Tom replied, sounding like he was having trouble making his voice work.

"Good." Russell nudged Tom back a bit so he could press a kiss to his forehead. "Why can't I feel you anymore?" He breathed against Tom's skin, knowing that the bond was still there, but not being able to sense the hybrid's emotions anymore. Tom had done something to shield himself once they'd reached the bedroom, but Russell wasn't sure if it had been instinctive or intentional.

"I'm trying to control it," Tom explained, curiously stroking his fingers over Russell's muscular chest. He had never been in a relationship with a man before - not that he hadn't had thoughts about it – and found the concept of being held, instead of holding someone else, strangely appealing.

"Why?"

"Because I don't think it should be kept active all the time. And neither one of us knows how to filter our emotions."

"Why would we need to filter our emotions?"

"Remember how you said you weren't going to pressure me into anything?"

Russell felt like kicking himself in the head when he realized where this was headed. "I'm a man, Tom. I can't help that I have all these sexual thoughts about you. It doesn't mean that I'm going to act on them."

"I know… but it confuses me when you say one thing but project another."

"Speaking of confusing…" Russell took hold of Tom's wandering hand and pressed it firmly up against his bare chest. "If you're going to touch me, do it with a bit more confidence. I'm not a woman. Dragging your fingers over my pecs like that just feels itchy."

Taking the advice a little too literally, Tom brushed his thumb roughly over Russell's nipple, causing the park ranger to gasp. "Is this better, Russ?"

"I thought you didn't want to feel pressured," Russell said through clenched teeth, dropping his hand to Tom's ass to squeeze him through his pajama pants as punishment. He hadn't needed much incentive to become aggressive with Tom. The hybrid was just too tempting, and too close, and had the annoying habit of getting under his skin. "Or maybe you just don't know what you want." He bowed his head in close to Tom's ear, licking along the outline of his earlobe before breathing hotly into it, feeling the hybrid begin to tremble. When he slid his tongue inside the curve of Tom's ear, he was rewarded with a barely suppressed whimper. "Do that again for me, Tom," Russell panted into Tom's ear. He pushed his hand up the front of Tom's pajama shirt, stroking his palm over lean but toned muscles.

"Russ… wait," Tom pleaded, his voice catching on a moan when Russell pinched one of his hard nipples.

"Stop blocking me. Let me feel what you're feeling." Russell pushed himself up onto his elbow, still rubbing Tom's sensitive nipple between his fingers, and slipped his tongue past Tom's lips and into his hot mouth. He was immediately assaulted with an onslaught of emotions so chaotic that he wasn't sure at first if they actually belonged to Tom. Passion mixed with lust, fear overshadowed by nervousness, and something that just burned. When he dragged his tongue alongside Tom's and carefully scratched the hybrid's nipple with the tip of his fingernail, the hybrid moaned in abandon. Russell kissed Tom harder, more possessively, nudging his knee between the hybrid's legs.

Tom broke the kiss and pulled away almost immediately. "Russ…no," he moaned, shaking his head in protest of what Russell intended to do.

"I'm not going to do _that_ tonight," Russell promised, getting a clear visual image of what Tom was not comfortable with. He pressed his knee in tighter between Tom's thighs, feeling his state of arousal. "You like this, don't you?" He was careful of Tom's injured leg, but didn't let up on the pressure. His fingers clawed into the firm flesh of Tom's ass, urging the hybrid to move his hips.

"Yes," Tom gasped, instinctively rubbing himself against Russell's knee, craving more friction. He timidly ran his hands over Russell's broad shoulders, muscular arms, and then down the park ranger's back, feeling all the muscles that were being flexed there. Russell was an exquisite example of masculinity – powerful, headstrong, and seductively handsome with his light brown eyes and thick, dark hair. The park ranger was also a few shades darker than Tom due to his Cuban heritage. Normally Tom paid little attention to Russell's complexion. However, the contrast was intriguing and undeniable up close; Tom's hands looked almost pale against Russell's strong, dusky forearms. And Russell's skin was very dark underneath his beard whereas whatever facial hair Tom had was usually too light to be seen. But as much as Tom desired Russell, his strict upbringing and responsible nature led to him acting a lot more repressed than he would have liked. He rarely pursued things that were pleasurable for himself, choosing to put the needs of his family and the community first. And his many disagreements and arguments with Mariel had kept their relationship frigid, especially from a sexual standpoint. Tom couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched him with the intention of making him feel good. But being pressed up against Russell's sweaty body, the heavy scent of musk overlaying the familiar saltwater tang of the glades marking the sheets and Tom along with them, could not have felt any better.

"Stop thinking," Russell breathed in a slightly commanding tone. "Tell me what you want."

"You. I want you, Russ."

"I don't think you meant that in the way it sounded to me," Russell groaned, reminding himself what was off limits tonight. He reached down, pushing his hand into his own boxer-briefs and began stroking himself. "You're going to come for me, Tom." He licked up the hybrid's neck, teasingly bit his earlobe, and thrust his tongue back into that warm, sweet mouth. He felt Tom's body become hotter against him, and listened to the hybrid make all sorts of interesting noises. It only made Russell manipulate himself more enthusiastically. When Tom began to desperately grind himself against Russell's thigh, he felt himself on the brink of insanity. He pushed Tom flat onto his back and spread his legs with both hands on the hybrid's inner thighs. "You're so damn beautiful," he praised, kissing Tom's flushed cheeks and then his kiss-swollen lips.

"Russ… I love you," Tom confessed in a moment of weakness, his long eyelashes unable to conceal the tears of joy that his eyes filled with.

Those three words caused Russell to pause, letting the meaning of Tom's confession sink in. To finally have confirmation that his love wasn't one-sided was enough to throw him for a loop. He had always hoped, but never known for sure how Tom felt about him. He realized that the hybrid was extremely selective with those that he chose to love, for fear of getting hurt. Russell secretly swore that he would never take Tom's love for granted or make him regret how their relationship would change before the night was over. "I love you, too, Tom. I have for a long time." Russell sealed his mouth over Tom's again and used both hands to lower the hybrid's pajama pants, easing them down those narrow hips and pulling them off, one leg at a time. His palm experimentally brushed against Tom's erection at first, trying not to startle him. When Tom squirmed beneath him, Russell closed his fingers around him and began to stroke. Tom began to breathe faster, arching up into Russell's firm grasp, just as Russell felt himself harden to the point that it was almost too much for him. Russell pushed his boxer-briefs down and gave himself a few strong jerks. And then he ground down against Tom, roughly bringing their erections together. Tom whimpered into Russell's mouth and reached down to touch the park ranger's cockhead. The slide of Tom's index finger along his slit, smearing precum along his thick length was all Russell could take. He seized Tom's wrist, stopping him, and tried to regain control. He didn't want it to be over so soon. But Tom was tired and needed release and Russell was intent on giving it to him.

"What's wrong?" Tom whispered, thinking he had done something incorrectly.

"I'm too close," Russell replied, caressing Tom's glistening lips with two fingers. It didn't take much coaxing for Tom to take them into his mouth, sucking on them without needing to be told. "That's good, Tom," he gasped, quickly pulling his fingers out of the hybrid's wet mouth.

"Russ?" Tom gazed up at Russell trustingly, unable to anticipate what Russell was going to do next. When it came to things that went on in the bedroom, Tom was too straight-laced and lacked a proper imagination.

"I'm going to make you come so hard," Russell promised, leaning down to kiss Tom as he slid one of his saliva-moistened fingers down the cleft of the hybrid's buttocks, and rubbed against his tight entrance. Not giving Tom a chance to protest, he pressed his finger past the tight ring of muscle and into the hybrid, sinking it in slow and deep.

Tom's reaction was incredible. The hybrid moaned helplessly beneath him, Russell's finger being clenched by spasming muscles as Tom came, bringing Russell with him. Russell rubbed his hard length against the smooth skin of Tom's belly, and groaned throatily as he came all over the hybrid's flat abdomen. He felt Tom's fingernails clawing over his shoulders and the hybrid wantonly bearing down onto the finger that was still inside him.

They continued to kiss, rubbing and grinding against each other until they were both spent and thoroughly exhausted. Tom collapsed back onto the pillow, breathing hard and contemplating what they had just done. Russell kissed him again and carefully withdrew his finger. "Have you ever-?" Russell asked, completely turned on by Tom's reaction.

"No," Tom panted. "I didn't expect you to… do that."

"Did you like it?" Russell straddled Tom's waist, his weight balanced on his knees, his hands on either side of the hybrid's head. He didn't move for a while, satisfied just admiring his lover's half-lidded blue eyes, accentuated by those long fair eyelashes.

"You couldn't tell?" Tom languidly lay there, allowing Russell to begin to caress his face, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath.

"I just want to hear you say it."

"You're a pervert." Tom smiled affectionately up at Russell, his expression sleepy and satiated. "I was nervous, but that was the most amazing…"

"Sex," Russell filled in helpfully. "Yeah, it was. But the next time it's going to be even more amazing," he promised as he let his other hand creep between Tom's legs, suggestively circling his finger around the hybrid's tight opening. "The next time is going to be slower and I'm not going to keep you quiet." Russell wondered just how much noise the hybrid was capable of making if nobody else was in the house. But Tom seemed reluctant to commit to what Russell was hinting at, so he quickly changed the subject. "You know you have freckles, right? Here, here, and here." He brushed the tip of his finger over them one by one.

"Only you would notice," Tom teased.

"Your freckles are cute," Russell said with a grin.

"Shut up," Tom laughed, trying to push Russell's hand away. "That's what every man loves to hear, that his freckles are cute."

"You're cute when you blush, too." Russell snatched Tom's wrist and smiled down at him. When Tom wrapped his other arm around Russell's neck, the park ranger ducked his head down to meet Tom's lips in another ardent kiss.

He then plucked out a few tissues from the tissue box on his side of the bed and used them to clean off Tom's stomach. Discarding the tissues into the wastepaper basket by the bed, he lay down and drew Tom into his arms once more. "Think you can sleep now?"

"All day," Tom sighed, closing his eyes and listening to the steady rhythm of Russell's heartbeat by his ear. Soon, he was drifting off into a pleasant slumber, the feeling of fingers stroking through his hair comforting in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

* * *

 **All comments are greatly appreciated, especially on this chapter because it was quite challenging to write. :)**


	8. Tearing free of the Chrysalis

**Part 8: Tearing free of the Chrysalis**

Russell had been in the middle of a pleasant dream when he was woken up by a strange sensation. The feeling of being watched. He opened his eyes, blinking back sleep, and gazed lovingly at Tom who was still in his arms, using his chest as a pillow. At least that part hadn't been a dream. The sheets had slipped down to Tom's waist, so he pulled them back up again to prevent the hybrid from catching a chill during the night.

Suddenly, in the dark shadows of the room, Russell saw movement and froze, automatically tightening his hold on Tom. He felt a familiar presence and smelled a perfume that he actually knew the name of. What was it called again? Pink peach crush? When his eyes adjusted to the darkness, spotting a petite figure that didn't quite blend in with the shadows, he let out a half-frightened, half-furious reprimanding whisper. "Larkin! What are you doing?! You shouldn't be in here!"

Larkin was standing beside Tom's side of the bed, watching her fellow hybrid sleep with clinical interest. "I wanted one of my shirts," she said, as if intruding on her husband's love affair didn't affect her in the least.

How the hell hadn't Tom sensed her come in?! Tom had practically reacted to Larkin as if she were a poisonous rattlesnake down in the living room and now he wasn't even aware of her presence? But, come to think of it, Russell wondered how he had been able to sense Larkin with his eyes closed. Sure, random noises occasionally woke him up during the night – thunderstorms, stray cats howling, Dave drunkenly singing out back… Waking up abruptly because he had sensed a presence was a first for him. He could faintly hear Tom's steady breathing, feeling the hybrid's exhaustion through their bond. A bond that was many times stronger and clearer than it had been before they'd made love. Was it now possible for him to borrow Tom's powers through the bond while Tom was incapable of defending himself? Was this the uneasiness that his lover had been feeling earlier on?

"You could've waited until the morning!"

"I was curious."

"About what?"

"What finding my husband in bed with another man would feel like." She shifted her gaze to Russell, revealing nothing in her expression. "Strangely enough, I don't feel anything at all."

"That's wonderful. Now, can you please leave?!"

"Does Mariel know?"

"Larkin, get out! It's seriously inappropriate for you to be in here."

"How was he?" This time there was no mistaking Larkin's malicious intent. "I'll bet he was nowhere near as good as I was."

"Who are you trying to hurt?" Russell demanded to know. "If you have unresolved anger towards me, we can discuss it like mature adults. Tomorrow. But if you're trying to hurt Tom…"

"I would never _try_ to hurt Tom," Larkin said innocently.

"Russ?" Tom murmured, halfheartedly making an attempt to respond to his lover's voice.

"Go back to sleep," Russell said gently, stroking Tom's hair. He narrowed his eyes at Larkin and dared her to remain there a moment longer. Granted, Tom had made some pretty poor judgment choices in the past, but Russell truly hoped that taking Larkin to the water wouldn't be one that they both ended up regretting.

Larkin held up the shirt she had come in for, waved it in front of Russell's face, and breezily left the room.

* * *

Even with Larkin off in another part of the house, Russell had difficulty going back to sleep. He lay there for another two hours, willing himself to keep his eyes closed and his body relaxed. He wondered how many sleepless nights Tom had spent worrying after encountering a hostile hybrid. Like he was doing now.

Russell recalled the way Tom had reacted to that group of migrant workers down by the cove – the ones that had been submerged in the water, invisible to the normal observer. There had been four or five of them - big, heavy built men – and Tom had sensed them before they had surfaced. Tom had squared his shoulders against them, his entire body rigid with tension, but he had kept his distance. Always staying close to Russell. Even when they were leaving, Tom had backed away instead of walking away, refusing to leave himself open to an attack. What could Tom have done if they had attacked? Realistically? Nothing. Just one of them could have easily overpowered Tom in a second. Of course Russell wouldn't have let that happen, but why hadn't they tried? Just remembering that poor kid that those hybrids had beaten to death made him shudder.

All this thinking was making Russell hungry.

The clock on the dresser across the room said it was sometime after six. He could have done with another hour or two of rest, but lying in bed was just frustrating him more, so he decided to get up and start the day.

Russell carefully repositioned Tom on his side, pulling away from him, and got out of bed. The hybrid looked so peaceful in his sleep that Russell didn't have the heart to wake him. He pulled on a pair of cargo pants and a dark tank top, and looked at Tom again. Whether the hybrid was tired or not, something told him that it would be really tasteless of him to just let Tom wake up to an empty bed. So he leaned over Tom and brushed the backs of his knuckles over a high cheekbone and waited.

"Hmm?" Tom murmured, beginning to stir in his sleep.

Russell gripped Tom's shoulder, preventing him from getting up. "Tom, I'm going downstairs to get a snack. Will you be okay up here by yourself?"

"Sure, Russ...," came the sleepy reply.

Releasing his grip, Russell kissed Tom on the cheek before slipping quietly out of the room.

The children were still in their beds with their bedroom doors closed, so Russell left them alone. Making his way down to the kitchen, he smelled the heavenly aroma of pancakes and heard the coffeemaker gushing steam out of the top lid. Since when did Larkin make pancakes? She was more of a ham and eggs person.

"Good morning, Russell," Mariel greeted her ex-husband cheerfully when he entered the kitchen.

"Mariel! What are you doing up? Didn't you get in late last night?"

"Kira and I got in around a half hour after you and Tom went to bed." She phrased it in such a way that there was no mistaking that she knew in what context Russell had taken Tom to bed. "You know me, I'm usually up early and I like making pancakes."

Russell nervously rubbed the stiffness out of his neck, not knowing what to say to that. He loved pancakes but wasn't looking forward to eating them for several reasons. One was because it was a bit strange having Mariel back in her old kitchen, cooking for him. And another was that he couldn't remember the last time he had eaten anything that wasn't part of a breakfast menu. His stomach was going to start complaining if he didn't get back into the habit of eating earthy foods, like fruits and vegetables.

"You don't mind, do you? I asked Larkin, but she said that this wasn't her kitchen anymore, so…"

"Larkin is up? Where did she sleep?"

"I think she spent the night talking with Dave in the shed. She came in for a bit… and then disappeared again." Mariel looked uncomfortable talking about Larkin and quickly changed the subject. "Can we just get all the weirdness out of the way so we can go back to acting normal around each other?"

"What weirdness?"

"You and Tom. I always suspected that you had a thing for him, and you know that I already have the divorce papers drawn up, so can we just move on?"

Surely it couldn't be as uncomplicated as that. No name calling? No slanderous insults or shouted threats? Who was this woman and what had she done with the real Mariel? "Are you sure you're okay with it? I mean, you've been sitting on those papers for the past few weeks." And Russell had spent the last two feeling like a jackass for not giving Tom any advance warning about them. Mariel had sworn him to secrecy before he had realized what he was going to be told. A little while later, Russell had overheard some men laughing drunkenly in the town bar about how Sheriff Underlay knew about the papers but was too cowardly to confront his wife about them. And Tom had said that he and Mariel were 'over', so it wasn't like Tom was in the dark about them. Still… it didn't make Russell feel any better about keeping something from Tom.

"I was waiting for you to make a move on him." Mariel explained without looking at Russell, and added another pancake to the frying pan. "I didn't want to leave him alone with all the Szura stuff going on. Not after the cruel things I said to him. But he isn't going to be alone anymore, is he, Russell?"

Still thinking that Mariel was trying to trick him and any answer was going to be the wrong answer, Russell took his time before responding truthfully. "No, he isn't."

Mariel glanced at Russell, grinned, and passed him a plateful of pancakes. "Good. Besides, I accidentally walked in on you two while you were sleeping yesterday." Without missing a beat, she inquired about Tom before Russell could get all embarrassed about having been caught. "So, how is Tom doing? I heard you brought him into the hospital while I was performing surgery on a patient. Something about falling out of a tree…? I've told him a million times to stop climbing up there after that cat."

Russell had to admire the doctor-patient confidentiality code. Even though Mariel was the chief medical officer down at Homestead Memorial Regional Hospital, she still wasn't privy to Tom's medical records. At least, not unless she was the attending physician or Tom himself gave consent for her to access his information.

"He didn't fall out of a tree. Three men ambushed him in the backyard and tried to abduct him."

"What?!" Mariel would have flipped a pancake onto the floor if Russell hadn't moved his plate to catch it in time. She turned off the burner and gave her ex-husband her full attention. "Does this have something to do with his vandalized cruiser? Lewis told me about it before he left for work yesterday."

"They weren't hybrids. They were humans." Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, Russell gave her the truncated version of the events that she had missed. "They attacked him right in front of Rose, Mariel. He's got a torn calf muscle and a really nasty bump on the head. He might have had a crushed skull if Jesse and I hadn't shown up when we did."

"Oh my God…" Mariel clutched her hands in front of her chest, looking extremely upset. "This happened in the backyard?! _Our_ backyard?!"

"Yeah, and they had a van waiting out front. I think that they were planning on torturing Tom to death. There's no way of telling how many of them there were, but I suspect they were targeting Tom specifically because he's a hybrid." He hadn't known that at the time, but he'd managed to glean the information from the bond while the hybrid had been asleep. As much as he loved Tom, and wanted to remain in contact with him, he worried that they might have some privacy issues in the future if they didn't learn to use the bond appropriately.

"Like the gunman who broke into our house hoping to kill Tom, but who shot Larkin instead." Mariel looked furious. "They're in jail now, right? Russell, we have three children in this house who could be in danger."

"Two are in jail."

"Where on earth is the third?!"

"I killed him," Russell replied coldly. "And I won't hesitate to kill again if anyone tries to lay a hand on Tom or any of the kids."

That didn't seem to make Mariel feel any less anxious or afraid. Then there was the troubling way that Russell had phrased his threat. He was perfectly fine with killing for Tom or any one of the children, but he hadn't mentioned anything about Larkin or herself. Although she had no doubt that Russell would continue to look out for her as he always had in the past, because she was the mother of his children, she couldn't help feeling left out.

"Can we sit down?" Russell gestured to his plateful of pancakes and then over at the kitchen table. "I'm starving."

"Oh, go ahead. Where do you keep the maple syrup?"

"I moved it to the back of the fridge so that Larkin would stop putting it in her coffee. You know pregnant women and their-." Russell cut himself off at the last minute, allowing the kitchen to fall into an uncomfortable silence.

Mariel retrieved the maple syrup from the fridge and sat down at the table with Russell. She watched him drown his pancakes in the maple syrup, rip off a big piece without cutting it properly, and shovel it into his mouth. "Please tell me that Doctor Cranston sent Tom home with a pair of crutches," Mariel muttered under her breath.

"He tried. But you know how stubborn Tom is," Russell said between bites.

"Men," Mariel corrected him. "All men are stubborn.

"Where's Kira?"

"She's sleeping in Rose's room. I think she's too preoccupied with Lewis to really comprehend what is going on in this town. Aside from all the victims we pulled out of the water, the emergency room was filled to capacity with hybrids who had been attacked by regular citizens and vice versa. I haven't been to the center of town, but I've heard it's like a warzone out there."

Mopping up the remaining maple syrup with the last broken strips of pancakes, Russell casually brought up what had been troubling him all night. "When we found you the night after the hurricane, when you first saw Tom, did you recognize him?"

"At first? No. I was really confused and disoriented. I didn't even recognize my own son."

"Were you able to sense that Tom was a hybrid?"

Mariel looked slightly embarrassed to answer that question. "No. And I still can't. I only seem to be able to sense other hybrids when they pose a threat to me, like the ones that picked us up in that military truck when we were trying to get out of town."

"Larkin said something strange to Tom last night. She said that he was different, implying that he was a unique type of hybrid. Can you think of any way that Tom might be different from any of the other hybrids that you have encountered?"

"I'm not sure… The only thing that really sticks out in my mind is the way Tom reacted to Kira when she was brought into the hospital to visit him after his plane crash. He knew who she was right away, Russell. As soon as he saw her, it was like nothing else in the world mattered." Mariel smiled as she remembered the look on Tom's face when Kira had appeared in the doorway of his hospital room. Kira had been a lot smaller then, but the bond between father and daughter had been undeniable when Tom had embraced her like she was the most precious thing in the world. It had been far too easy for Mariel to forget how kind and loving Tom was during their arguments and after their relationship had gone sour.

"Don't forget that Tom was uncharacteristically surprised when he caught you stocking up on bottled water and batteries before we even had any information about that last hurricane. He might have been the only hybrid who didn't have the urge to stockpile emergency supplies."

"What exactly did Larkin say?"

"That there were basically two types of hybrids and Tom fit into neither category."

"So… Larkin has been a hybrid for all of thirty-six hours and she already knows more about what we are than I do." Mariel got up and went back to the stove to fry up more pancakes. "That just figures."

* * *

Larkin gingerly shut the back door, making sure that the noise wouldn't interrupt the serious conversation that Russell was having with Mariel. She'd heard her name mentioned a few times but wasn't really interested in what they were talking about. Why would she be? They were talking about Tom, and she had nothing good to say about the man she had found in her husband's arms. The traitorous hybrid that was enemy number one in Homestead.

Ignoring the pleasant aroma of pancakes coming from the kitchen, she made her way quietly up the stairs. If Russell and Mariel hadn't been so involved in their little puzzle solving game, they surely would have heard her every step up the rickety staircase that Russell had hammered together. She honestly didn't know how Mariel, with her lofty standards and neat-freak complex, had been able to put up with the slapped together shack of a house. And Mariel was the one Russell had built the house for in the first place. Larkin had developed the compulsive habit of buying knick-knacks and decorations for the house in the attempt to make it more livable. She had never told Russell that she actually thought his creation ought to be burnt down and redesigned by someone who knew what the hell they were doing. And now, she even hated her own tacky purchases that made the place look like more of a thrift shop than anything resembling an inhabitable environment.

Well, she wouldn't have to tolerate this much longer. She had talked with Dave nearly all night, going through all the beer he had in his tiny fridge – because she wasn't pregnant anymore and why the hell couldn't she drink?! – and listened to him rant on and on about how Tom Underlay was a home wrecker. Now that, she could agree on. The end result of their drunken bitching was her decision to just divorce Russell and move on. It wasn't like she wanted to stay with Russell anyway. She wasn't going to waste her time taking him to court to demand alimony or anything like that either because Russell was currently unemployed. He may have been the breadwinner of the family before Tom had involved him in all that Szura nonsense, but he sure as hell wasn't now. She didn't want anything from Russell. And she most assuredly didn't want to fight over the house. All she wanted was to get her personal belongings from the bedroom and then get down to the news station to see if she still had a job left.

At the top of the stairs, she was startled – and annoyed beyond belief – to find Tom standing there. The other hybrid was still dressed in his pajamas and was leaning heavily on the banister, taking the weight off of his right leg. He looked fairly well rested and the expression on his face was one of sheer determination.

"Larkin…"

Larkin glared at Tom, revealing the animosity that she felt for him. The ugly viciousness that she had refrained from displaying in front of the others. "Careful, Tom, Russell doesn't want me talking to you. Especially not after he caught me in the bedroom earlier on." She smirked and tried to move past him. Now she wouldn't have to worry about forcefully removing him from the bedroom while she ransacked the place.

"Larkin, we need to talk."

Larkin stopped and whirled around when she felt Tom's hand on her arm. The movement pulled Tom off balance, but he quickly regained it, keeping his fingers firmly wrapped around Larkin's forearm. "Let go, Tom. Unless you want to get hurt."

To Larkin's amazement, Tom gave a short laugh at that threat but didn't release her. "Wow! You really are not yourself," he said softly, trying to see into her eyes.

"And _you_ are a bastard!" Larkin pulled away again, reminding herself that she wouldn't have to deal with this much longer. Tom would be taken care of. Slowly and painfully, he would be put out of his misery. The hybrids who had told her as much had guaranteed Tom's demise. She couldn't understand what Russell wanted with Mariel's discarded leftovers anyway. Mariel herself was a pitiful excuse for a boring woman, having lacked the imagination to figure out what she was without the help of everyone surrounding her. And her taste in men was just as bad. Who in their right mind would want to take on damaged goods like Tom Underlay? If Russell had wanted to experiment with a man, he could have found himself something a bit beefier and more masculine. Larkin knew that she would have preferred a strong man in her bed, not a weak, poor excuse for an effeminate hybrid who couldn't even stand up to her. What Tom passed off as kindness and compassion, Larkin labeled as downright pathetic.

"All this anger and hostility… it isn't you, Larkin. You're better than this," Tom insisted, leaning closer to her, his hand still on her arm. As if he were trying to reason with her, to make her see _the light_. What a joke!

"You're right. I am." She sneered at Tom, desperate to hurt him. "I'm not Russell's bitch anymore, you are. I'm better than the both of you." Judging by the look on Tom's face, she knew had scored a point with that one. "When Russell is done with you – and he will be done with you once he's sick of using you – he'll get rid of you as easily as he got rid of me."

"You don't know what you're saying," Tom protested, refusing to back out of Larkin's personal space. "You're just having trouble adjusting after… your rebirth. Let me help you."

"You're finished as a sheriff, Tom," she laughed, throwing his offer for help back in his face. "Once the others find out about you and Russell, it will be the end of your career. What a laugh that will be. The two of you losers living in this decrepit house with no income, social pariahs in a town where there are no visual minorities, never mind _homosexuals_."

"Larkin, stop it!" Tom's fingers tightened around her arm even as he struggled to control his emotions. Maybe now he was beginning to realize that he had bitten off more than he could chew.

"What's the matter, Tom? Can't handle the truth?"

Perhaps it was how close Tom was standing, or maybe Larkin's own hatred was the source, but she began to feel warmer. Her skin tingled with an unbearable warmth that was disconcertingly invasive. Since she had washed ashore, she had felt deliciously cold inside. Cold and in control of her thoughts and emotions. Unable to be swayed by the weakness that was the human heart. But this heat was distracting her, causing her feelings to grow erratic and aimless.

Larkin snarled at Tom through her clenched teeth. "Let. Me. Go!"

"No!" Tom narrowed his eyes at Larkin, deeply focused on doing… what?

When Tom's fingers began to feel hot on her arm, she twisted it, reversing Tom's grip so that she was now the one grabbing him by the wrist. Yanking hard, she succeeded in pulling him closer to the edge of the stair landing. His other hand was slipping off of the banister that curved downwards and out of his reach. On second thought, this could work to her advantage. Tom wasn't at his best. It wouldn't take much to shove him down the stairs. Hybrid or not, a broken neck would put him down for good. And the thought of Russell rushing over to find his beloved Tom lying at the bottom of the stairs, either crippled or dead, was just too good to resist. Larkin dug her nails into Tom's wrist and dragged him closer still, watching him frantically try to keep his balance on the one leg.

"You've been given a second chance, Larkin. Please don't squander it. You need to give up this darkness inside of you and find your new purpose in life." Tom released the banister to grab Larkin's other arm, using her to support himself.

"Squander? If anyone is squandering their life, it's you, Tom. You and your meaningless existence."

The warmth increased in both her arms, travelling up them and into her body where it began to branch out. She was certain now that Tom was the cause. She had to kill him before he poisoned her like he had done to the others. This is what she had been warned of – the power that Tom and only Tom alone held. This sacrilegious affront to all that hybrids represented. The majority wanted power, but Tom wanted order. The majority struggled for dominance while Tom fought for a peaceful coexistence. And while Tom continued to protect those that had no business surviving, the majority grew outnumbered and met resistance. And this warmth – this _healing_ power that Tom controlled – was the reason why so many of her kind had been cut off from the pack. What he did under the guise of bringing about harmony was actually no more than a source of corruption. But Tom was weak. He couldn't even comprehend the full extent of his powers let alone know how to use them properly.

Tom was significantly taller than her, nearly as tall as Russell, but not quite, so she had to look up to make eye contact. As soon as she had those naïve blue eyes locked in her gaze, she pinioned his wrists with her fingers, using bruising force to hold him at bay. She smiled pleasantly at him as he tried to pull free, looking a lot less sure of himself and a lot more panicked than he was comfortable showing. As she dragged him closer to the edge of the stair landing, she applied her most condescending tone to her next words.

"Not every hybrid is the same. Christina told you that, didn't she? Some of us come back plain and ordinary, like Mariel. And others come back with special powers… like Christina, and you… and me." She emphasized the last word by clawing deeper into Tom's wrists and holding his gaze. She watched him gasping in pain, trying to form words with his mouth but no sound was coming out. "I could kill you right now, but where would be the fun in that? I think that you can manage on your own, can't you, Tom? You don't really want to live, do you? Sleeping in Russell's bed after all the terrible things he said about you? Do you know that he would often sit up in bed complaining about what a bad choice Mariel had made, right before we made love? He was always concerned for Mariel's safety while she was staying at your house. And then there was the time that I caught him in your house, making out with _your_ wife." Larkin laughed as Tom's eyes filled with tears. "He even mistakenly called me _Mariel_ once. What would Freud have to say about that slip?"

"S—stop," Tom pleaded, barely able to make a sound with the control that Larkin had over him.

"You know that Russell had a pet name for you, Tom? Whenever he came home pissed off about you, he would refer to you as _that sick son-of-a-bitch_." She grinned maniacally when her fingers grew wet with Tom's blood. She watched him fight her, trying to direct that healing power of his at her again, but she had already formed a defense to it. "And the night that he punched you… He just wouldn't stop gloating. He enjoyed hurting you." At that point, Tom turned his head away in shame as he started to cry.

"Russell… loves… me," Tom choked out, unable to stop the tears from flowing or his heart from breaking.

"He doesn't love you. All you are to him now is some perverse conquest. Something the alpha male in Russell needed to use." Larkin delighted in watching Tom begin to sob, slicing deeper into his wrists. He was so distraught that he probably couldn't tell the physical pain from the mental anguish.

"You want to know about the three types of hybrids, Tom? It's simple, really, but maybe it was so simple that you just didn't get it. Hybrids were meant to operate in packs, not mingle with these unchanged commoners that you seem to think are worth keeping around. In every pack there are two types of hybrids - alphas and betas. I'm sure you know the role of an alpha in a pack. Why don't you try and guess which one I am." Larkin realized that Tom had stopped listening to her, had given up on fighting her. Rubbing his face in what Russell truly thought of him had been enough to spiritually destroy him. So she continued just for the sake of being extra cruel. "But for some screwed up reason, you were created. Neither alpha nor beta. Just some useless omega – a failed prototype. Nothing but a mistake." Her eyes began to darken as she drained Tom of his energy, catching him in her arms as he collapsed. She didn't want to alert the others to her presence by allowing her husband's stupid new lover to crash onto the floor. "Maybe that's why the others all around the world were killing themselves. Because they weren't meant to survive. Just like you weren't meant to survive." She lifted Tom off of the ground and took a step backwards, towards the stairs. "If you survive the fall, you might want to consider finishing the job yourself. Personally, I would recommend a bullet to the head. It's the most dignified way for a sheriff to commit suicide."

Larkin prepared to shove Tom down the stairs, hoping that the fall would snap his neck because she never wanted to have to deal with him again.

* * *

 **Thanks to my lone reviewer for motivating me to keep writing this! One can never underestimate the power of a simple review. :)**


	9. Battle lines drawn

**Author's note: Finally finished this after re-writing it several times. Hopefully this revision is okay because I don't think I can scrap another 20 pages.**

* * *

 **Chapter 9: Battle lines drawn**

The conversation in the kitchen had lapsed into silence once Mariel had poured Russell and herself a cup of coffee. It wasn't an awkward silence, but rather an affable pause in the conversation. Although Mariel and Russell no longer worked out as a married couple, they had discovered that they made pretty good friends. There was no obligation to keep on talking, and no reason to feel uncomfortable when they stopped.

"What are we going to do about the living arrangements?" Mariel pondered, leaning her elbows onto the table and resting her chin on her hands. "And the kids."

"You didn't make any special requests in the divorce papers?"

"I didn't marry Tom for his money. I earn a lot more than he does. And he bought that house with the insurance money from his first wife's life insurance payout. So, no, I didn't include anything about the house or his savings. The only things of monetary value that I mentioned were the car, my jewelry, and my own assets. As for the kids, aside from Kira, that's still between you and me."

"I don't want anyone living in that house anymore," Russell finally said. "I was attacked outside it, and both Tom and Larkin were shot in it. And then yesterday, Tom was attacked outside it again. It's a magnet for criminals. If you're not going to live in it, I'm going to convince Tom to sell it."

"And have him move in here?"

"I haven't decided yet…"

"You really love him, don't you?" Mariel smiled at her ex-husband, thinking that all the extra effort he was making for Tom was really sweet.

"More than anything, Mariel. I'm sorry that it didn't work out between the two of you, but I'm grateful that you've decided to let him go."

"He's where he belongs now. And maybe sometime in the future, I can figure out where I belong." Mariel sighed and poked at her uneaten pancakes. "Do you ever wonder how things would have been different if you had just taken Tom to the crash site when he'd asked you?"

"More often than I want to think of. I think back then that every time I came to the hospital looking for you, I spent more time looking at him. I didn't even realize that I was doing it half the time." Russell laughed as he remembered the fight that he'd had with Mariel in the hospital one day during Tom's extended stay there. "I caught him watching me from his hospital room with these sad eyes after you walked away from one of our public quarrels. Like he blamed himself for being the cause of it. And all I could think about doing was kissing him and telling him to get over himself."

"You're terrible," Mariel laughed. "You spent that much time analyzing him while we were still married?"

"Hey! I wasn't the one who went off with him… although I can kind of see why you did."

"So… uh… have you ever…?" Mariel awkwardly tried to think of some way to phrase her nosy question. "When we were married, you never mentioned anything about… other men."

"Come on, Mariel! What man tells the woman that he's married to that he fooled around with other guys while he was in school?"

"So, that's a yes?"

"Yes. And no offense, but I'm so glad I'm not married to you anymore. You ask the most prying questions."

"Do you think Tom…?"

Russell rolled his eyes at Mariel and tried to keep a straight face. "No. I doubt it. But I haven't asked… yet."

"I accused him of it, you know. That one time you came over to the house after Tom had shot one of your coworkers in self-defense."

"You accused Tom of having an affair with me?!" That was something that he'd never heard before.

"Not in those exact words, but yes. He was spending more time hanging out with you than his own family. Looking back, it all makes sense now."

"Well, we're kind of having an affair now if you think about it. Neither of us is divorced yet…"

"I doubt that little technicality got in your way last night," Mariel innocently teased.

"Mariel!"

"I'm just saying. You could have slept on the sofa and let Tom have the bed."

Russell brought the coffee mug up to his lips again, signaling that the conversation was over. He was about to take a sip, when he was struck with the most intense headache he had ever had in his life. He dropped the coffee mug back onto the table, spilling coffee everywhere and held his head with his hands. He gritted his teeth and groaned, feeling like a tidal wave had just erupted in his head.

"Russell! What is it? What's wrong?"

The pain continued to increase, causing him to press his palms desperately to his temples, as if he were trying to contain it. And at the bottom of the pain, he felt it. Betrayal and heartbreak. Tom? What the hell was going on? Why would Tom be feeling betrayal and heartbreak? A little over an hour ago, Russell had left the contented hybrid in his bed, and at that time he had felt nothing but love and warmth emanating from him. What had happened to change that?

"Russell?!" Mariel pushed away from the table, coming to Russell's side.

Another searing bolt of pain lanced through Russell's head, and immediately afterwards his connection to Tom began to weaken. Tom was trying to destroy their bond! Russell got up from his chair, staggered as the pain hit him again, and rushed for the stairs. As he frantically struggled to prevent Tom from tearing apart the miraculous gift that joined them together, Russell felt something else. Something dark that was buried deeper than the feelings of betrayal and heartbreak. When he tried to analyze it, he found himself unable to breathe.

"TOM!" Russell shouted, blindly flying up the stairs. He looked up, trying to see where he was going, and his heart stopped. He had a mere split second to react, to throw himself forward in order to catch Tom in his arms to prevent the hybrid from toppling down the stairs headfirst. His forward momentum sent him crashing onto the stairs on his knees, and then onto his arms. Despite the agony that was now assaulting his head and his body, he protected Tom from the fall, choosing to brutalize the backs of his hands instead of letting Tom hit his head on the stairs. "Tom! Are you okay?!" Russell asked hysterically as he pushed away from the stairs, one hand still cradling Tom's head.

"Are all hybrids suicidal, or is it just Tom?"

Russell looked up to see Larkin standing at the top of the stairs, a look of amusement on her face.

"Larkin! What happened?!" Russell demanded to know, painfully repositioning himself so that he was sitting on the one step with his back against the wall, holding Tom in his arms. When he looked into the hybrid's beautiful face, he was shocked to see the devastation there. His eyes were tightly shut, tears streaming down his cheeks, and he was openly sobbing. "Tom?" The magnitude of pain and sorrow that Tom was feeling was enough to knock Russell backwards.

The noise from Russell falling onto the stairs, combined with his grievous shouting succeeded in waking everyone in the house. Jesse, Kira, and Rose appeared at the top of the stairs, behind Larkin, and Dave rushed into the house through the front door to join Mariel at the bottom of the stairs. Before anyone could get too close, Russell pushed the hybrid's face against his shoulder, concealing the fact that Tom was crying. If Tom had been in control, which he most certainly wasn't right now, he wouldn't have wanted anyone to see him in this condition.

"What happened?" Larkin repeated. "I should think that's obvious. Tom was feeling kind of depressed after he discovered how he means nothing to you. He said that he wanted to die, and I encouraged him to kill himself because then he wouldn't be a burden to anyone anymore."

"Are you sick in the head?!" Russell barely got out, shaking with rage.

"You're crazy!" Kira screamed at Larkin, tearfully looking down at Russell and her father. "My dad is _not_ suicidal!"

"Oh honey," Larkin said in a mockingly gentle voice. "You know nothing about your father."

"Shut up!" Russell preemptively yelled, hoping to save Tom's relationship with his daughter.

"Did you know that he spent the night in Russell's arms? It was so sweet… until poor Tom discovered that Russell had just used him to scratch an itch. He just couldn't take it."

"You're lying!" Kira spat at Larkin, allowing the female hybrid to provoke her.

"Open your eyes, you stupid little girl," Larkin said coldly. "Your father is Russell's bitch and everyone but you knows it."

"Stop trying to imply that I used him!" Russell scornfully looked up to where Jesse was holding Rose back, then to a furious Kira who was trying to get past Larkin to check on Tom, and then finally to Larkin herself. When he saw the blood that her fingers were covered with, he shouted at Kira in a panic. "Stay away from her! Get back into your rooms and lock the doors!"

"Dad!" Kira cried out, not being able to sense the danger that Larkin posed.

"Jesse! Take Kira and Rose. Now!"

"Come on, Russell. Why would _I_ hurt the children?" Larkin laughed. "Weren't you always afraid that Tom would hurt the children? Because Tom is a hybrid and all hybrids are monsters?"

Was that what had broken Tom? Larkin's psychotic ramblings? "You're the monster for hurting Tom!" Russell shouted venomously at her. "I don't know what you are now, but you aren't anything to me! You're sick and depraved!"

"I didn't make Tom throw himself down the stairs," Larkin said with a smile. "How could I? A small woman like me overpowering a strong sheriff like Tom?"

Where had the blood on Larkin's fingers come from? Russell pushed his fingers into Tom's hair, feeling for any wounds. He moved onto Tom's neck and arms as Larkin began to walk towards them, one step at a time. His eyes never left her, watching her every move like a hawk as his fingers skimmed over Tom's wrists… and came away coated with blood. He glanced down in horror to see the vicious nail marks lining the hybrid's thin wrists, and the trail of blood that continued to flow out of them. There was no way that Tom had done that to himself.

"Mariel! I need help! Get the First Aid Kit!"

"Russell! Look out!" Mariel screamed.

Russell couldn't raise his arms to defend himself when Larkin slammed him back into the wall by his throat, the back of his head whacking into solid wood. He kept his arms tightly around Tom, pushing the hybrid's face into his chest to protect him from Larkin, helpless to prevent her from slashing her nails across the right side of his face. Everything went black for a second, only returning to normal when Larkin came in for round two. He could feel Tom trembling against him, on some level aware of what was happening and terrified of Larkin. And at the top of the stairs, Kira was back, struggling against Jesse and screaming for Larkin to leave her father alone.

The second time around, Larkin wasn't aiming for Russell. Her blood clotted nails were targeting Tom, going for the opening below Russell's hand at the base of Tom's skull. Despite her unassuming size, her strength was phenomenal. The original Larkin never would have been able to hurt Russell, intentionally or otherwise. This new Larkin was a completely different story. Russell reacted without thinking, kicking Larkin's legs out from under her, and watched her fall down a couple of steps, only to get back up again as if she had merely slipped.

"Larkin! What are you doing?!" Dave, who had been lingering next to Mariel, pushed the blonde doctor behind him and tried to distract Larkin from ripping Russell's face off when she picked herself up again. "The Larkin I know would never hurt a fly… and here you are throwing people down the stairs and going all cat-woman on your husband." He backed up as the person whom he had formerly known as his sister calmly walked down the rest of the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, Larkin casually gave Dave some advice as she walked past him. "You should get yourself down to the water, Dave. Sooner rather than later. It might be able to do something about your multiple deficiencies. But then again, you might just end up being the first specimen that gets rejected on principle alone."

As Larkin strolled towards the front door, Mariel glared at Dave. "Are you just going to let her walk out of here?! After what she did to Tom and Russell?!"

"What can I do?" Dave asked nervously. "She has some kind of super power."

At the doorway, Larkin turned around and glared evilly at Mariel. "Why don't you stop hiding behind the men in your life and do something by yourself for a change, Mariel. If you want me, come and get me." When Mariel didn't budge, Larkin snickered. "That's what I thought. Spineless women like you are what's wrong with this world." She pushed open the front door and took her time getting Russell's jeep started, slowly backing out of the gravelly parking area and disappearing up the dirt path that led to the highway.

"Mariel!" Russell shouted furiously when his ex-wife just stood there looking cowed. "Get the First Aid Kit!" He had both hands clamped down on Tom's wrists, trying to stop the bleeding. He was unconcerned about his own injuries, but going out of his mind over his lover's fractured emotional state and the hot blood that felt sticky against his palms. When Kira tried to race for the stairs, Jesse held her back, obeying the look his father gave him. "Honey, please stay up there," Russell pleaded with Tom's daughter. "We're going to help your father. I promise."

As soon as Mariel crouched down over Tom on the stairs, she hastily opened the First Aid Kit, and began to pull out rubbing alcohol, gauze, bandages, and everything she would need to suture the wound. "Okay, let go of his right wrist first," she instructed Russell. She quickly cleaned and irrigated the wound with a syringe filled with a saline solution, trying to see how deep the nail marks went. "Russell, hold him still," she ordered when Tom flinched and tried to pull his arm away. "She missed the main artery but the cuts are deep, he's going to need stitches." She couldn't even begin to fathom the level of violent behavior Larkin was capable of if she had been trying to slit Tom's wrists with her nails.

"Give him a local anesthetic first," Russell said firmly, feeling the hybrid tense up at the pain. Then, he spoke gently to Tom. "It's okay, Tom. Mariel's going to fix you up. Just keep breathing." The second Mariel slid the needle into the flesh of Tom's wrist, injecting him with a 1% solution of lidocaine, the hybrid moaned in agony. Russell felt himself cringe at Tom's discomfort and just held on tighter. "I'm here, Tom. I'm not leaving you."

"Let me see his left wrist."

Russell continued to hold Tom steady as Mariel repeated the same procedure on his left wrist. "It'll be over soon," he whispered into the hybrid's ear. "Stay with me, Tom."

"This one isn't as bad. Russell, you bandage up his left wrist. I'll take care of his right one."

Without hesitating, Russell picked up a clean bandage and pressed it gently, but firmly, against Tom's wounded wrist. He kept up the pressure, checking occasionally to see if the bleeding had stopped, while Mariel set to work suturing the bloody gash that Larkin had left behind. At one point, Tom gazed up at him, his tear-filled blue eyes tormented, reflecting his fragile emotional state. Russell caressed the hybrid's face with his free hand and leaned in close to him so that no one would hear what he whispered. "You know that I love you. What we have is not a lie."

Mariel finished stitching Tom's wrist with precision and finesse, moving onto bandaging up the wound.

After a moment, Russell checked Tom's other wrist to see that the bleeding looked to be under control. He applied an antibiotic over the wound and then began to mirror Mariel's bandaging job. As a park ranger, he was confident in his emergency medical training, especially since he regularly took optional courses to ensure that his knowledge and skills were up-to-date. In a small town like Homestead that was regularly hit with hurricanes, Russell felt that basic First Aid training was something everybody should familiarize themselves with. But just because he was competent with bandages didn't mean that he was capable of shutting himself off while he performed actions that were basically muscle memory. He hated to see Tom injured – yet again – his mind delicately balanced on a very steep precipice. It made him feel sick inside to know that it had been his wife – changed or not – who had hurt Tom like this. Larkin had toyed with Tom's emotions and preyed on his insecurities, breaking him with little effort. And then she had just spirited herself away, leaving Russell to pick up the pieces.

During the bandaging, Russell sensed that Tom had either lost the energy to fight the bond or was unconscious because his headache ceased.

"Russell, your face…" Mariel moved in closer, trying to clean the bloody nail marks that looked like a cat with five fingers had clawed Russell's cheek open.

"Not now, Mariel." Russell slid both arms under Tom, lifting him about the back and under his knees. He hoisted the slim hybrid into his arms and carefully carried him up the stairs. It felt like he was leading a circus when all three children, Mariel, and Dave followed him into the master bedroom. He lay Tom down on the bed, took his pulse and then checked his heart rate. He gave Mariel a troubled look, trying to communicate to her without words that Tom's vital signs were abnormally low. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kira watching the way he touched her father and felt how uncomfortable it was making her feel.

"I couldn't find any other injuries," Mariel answered Russell's unspoken question.

"His injuries aren't just physical," Russell said to no one in particular, earning himself a bewildered look from Dave.

Tom's eyes were closed, so he was either unconscious or shutting himself off from his family. That concerned Russell more than the injuries that had already been taken care of. He was already well aware that Tom was a very sensitive individual who was easily affected by what others thought of him. Although Tom usually hid it well, the overflow was bleeding through into anxiety attacks and an emotional instability that Larkin had just exploited. And then there was the darkness inside Tom that Larkin had awakened. A single thought in the far recesses of Tom's mind, small and seemingly harmless. But it was that one thought that had Russell's untrained mind fighting to subdue Tom's through the bond. He was doing his best to prevent Tom from acting on that dangerous urge that Larkin had implanted in his subconscious, but in the process he was mentally taxing them both. He couldn't ask Mariel for help because psychic connections weren't her realm of expertise. And besides, he wasn't sure if this was something he was supposed to be discussing with anyone but Tom.

"Can I hug Daddy-Tom?" Rose asked timidly, hovering near the bed.

"Sure, honey. Go ahead. Just stay away from the bandages." Russell lifted Rose up and put her down beside Tom. She stared at Tom for a moment before hugging him, her expression much too somber for that of a six-year old child. While her arms were around Tom, her gaze was studying Russell's face, no doubt disturbed by the bloody calling card that Larkin had left behind. But he had no time to spare for explaining things to her or for letting Mariel tend to his face just yet. "Dave, I need to know where you stand with Larkin." He continued to put off the completely unsubtle looks that Kira was giving him in favor of putting his soon-to-be ex-brother-in-law on the spot.

"I don't know what you're asking, man…"

"Are you still going to support this new Larkin in her vendetta against Tom and myself, or are you going to help me protect my family against this lunatic of a hybrid?"

Dave solemnly shook his head. "I was pissed last night because I thought I was protecting my sister. I got wasted and maybe egged her on more than I should've… But I never wanted anyone to get hurt. My sister never would've hurt anyone and then cackled like an evil witch about it. I'll help you, man, but just don't make me fight her or anything like that. She's still got my sister's face."

"Russell, can I talk to you?" Kira blurted out, getting sick of Russell ignoring her pointed looks.

"In a minute, honey. Jesse, you know that cabin that Tom took you guys to?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Do you think you could find it again?"

"Sure, no problem. It's about ninety minutes north of here. Are you thinking of hiding out there or something? You'll probably need to ask Tom's developer friend for permission first."

Russell laughed humorlessly at his son's suggestion. "Weren't you the one who originally suspected Tom of lying about who that cabin belonged to? I don't know what Tom's motives were for deceiving everyone, but I guarantee you that that cabin belongs to him. So no one is going to have a problem with us just showing up there and occupying the place for a few days."

"What is this town going to do without a sheriff and a chief medical officer for a few days?" Mariel challenged Russell. "We can't just up and disappear whenever we feel like it, Russell."

"In case you haven't noticed, the sheriff is incapacitated with two slit wrists, an injured leg, and a head injury. Larkin wanted Tom dead. That's one thing that she has in common with the three men who attacked Tom yesterday. I can't force you to leave, Mariel, but I'm not risking Tom's safety, or that of our children, by remaining here a moment longer. Larkin could come back at any time, and the next time she might not come alone. We can't stay here while Tom is incapable of defending himself. And if we leave, there will be no one here to look out for you."

"I appreciate your concern, Russell, but I can't just leave my patients to fend for themselves. There are still so many injured or displaced people who need to be taken care of." Before Russell could argue, Mariel alleviated his fears. "I'm not your responsibility anymore, Tom is. But I agree that the children would be safer elsewhere until this calms down. So, why don't you take Dave and the kids up to Tom's cabin and stay there a while. Just until Tom recovers. We can figure out the rest after that."

"What about Lewis?" Kira broke in, not wanting to be separated from her new boyfriend.

"Kira, your father needs you more than Lewis does right now," Russell said unsympathetically. What was it with teenagers and lovesickness? One or two weeks really wasn't going to make that much of a difference. But now Russell was beginning to see why Tom felt so detached from his daughter. Kira's first priority was Kira, not her father or anyone else. Well, that was going to change real soon. Russell would make sure of that. "You're coming and that's final. And as a precaution, I don't want anyone to know where we're going. Not even Lewis. He's ex-military, so he'll understand why."

"Uh… do I get a say in whether I go or not?"

"You're a grown man, Dave. If you don't want to come, just say so," Russell muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

"It's not that. It's just that, if Mariel is staying maybe I should also stay to… you know… protect her."

Russell raised an eyebrow at that and Mariel smirked, flattered that Dave had actually thought about her wellbeing. "That's a good idea. Stay with Mariel then. We'll contact you as soon as we reach the cabin."

"Russell… about the blood that you're dripping all over the floor…," Mariel pointed out casually.

The adrenaline rush had temporarily blotted the injury and the pain from Russell's mind. Being reminded about it also made him feel the bruises on his knees, shins, arms, and the backs of his hands. And he was pretty sure that he had a good bump on the back of the head, too. "Okay. Do it quickly though. Jesse, get the range rover ready to go. Make sure the gas tank is full. Kira, go help Rose pack her stuff. We'll stop by your house to pick up some more stuff before we hit the highway."

"Daddy?" Rose said timidly when Mariel had finished patching Russell up.

"What is it, honey?" Russell asked distractedly.

"Daddy-Tom has a fever."

Russell looked down at Tom, not needing to touch him to know that he was beginning to burn up, just like he had two nights ago.

"Russell, how did you get his fever to go down the first time?" Mariel asked curiously. "And do you know what caused it?"

Of course he knew what had caused it. But he didn't have the luxury of time to explain it to Mariel. Russell felt overwhelmed again by the desperate urge to touch Tom, like he had two nights before. But this time he understand perfectly well the reason for it. His lover had slipped into a complicated state of depression, this time more severe than the last had been. Whatever Larkin had said or done to Tom was responsible for the despair and heartbreak that was destroying him from the inside out. Russell reached down to gently caress Tom's face, allowing the sickening heat to radiate through his palm and into his fingers. "Can everyone just give us some privacy for the next half hour or so?"

"Dude, this is not the time for a roll in the hay," Dave said indelicately. "You just said that you needed to hurry."

"Don't talk trash in front of my kids," Russell warned angrily. "If I can't get Tom's fever to go down, we're not going to be able to go anywhere."

Thankfully Mariel trusted Russell enough that she didn't question his methods or his motives. "Okay, everyone out. Go get ready like Russell told you to."

No sooner had Mariel cleared the room of all its occupants than Russell was stripping down to his boxer-briefs and climbing into bed with Tom. Without any hesitation, he pulled the extremely hot hybrid into a loving embrace and began to kiss him. He kissed his nose, the freckles on his cheeks, his closed eyelids, and finally his lips. "Whatever Larkin said to you was a lie," he said vehemently, stroking Tom's now sweat-soaked hair. "I love you, Tom. And I need you to be okay." He felt Tom begin to respond to him, his abused body and mind instinctively relaxing in Russell's care. Direct physical contact appeared to intensify the bond, conveying the truth of his words to Tom, as well as the strength of his love for the hybrid. But even as Tom's fever began to drop as he slowly regained consciousness, Russell could still feel the darkness inside the hybrid. A cold, lonely, broken darkness that dwelled on a single thought. "Stop thinking that!" Russell said angrily, frustrated that he couldn't overpower that thought into submission. "You're stronger than that, Tom."

"She said you enjoyed hitting me," Tom said brokenly as he gradually became cognizant, his voice terribly weak from the blood loss and trauma that Larkin had put him through.

"What? I enjoyed hitting you?!" Russell nearly lost his temper, but not at Tom. No wonder Tom's mind was so screwed up. Larkin had really gone to town on him, especially to have implied that he was physically abusive. "Are you talking about that night I came to your house to give you hell over that gun you let Jesse have?" That was the one and only time that he had ever hit Tom. "That bitch!" Forcing himself to remain calm so that Tom wouldn't think that the anger was directed at him, Russell gave the hybrid his version of events that night. "After I hit you, and you walked away looking so confused and lost, I felt like an asshole, Tom. I realized that you were telling the truth about Szura and you hadn't given Jesse that gun to challenge my authority. So, I got back in my car and tried to find you. I didn't want you walking around in the dark in your pajamas. I was worried sick when I couldn't find you. When I went home, I told Larkin what I had done and asked her if I should call your house to see if you were okay. She said that you wouldn't want to talk to me, so I waited and called Mariel in the morning to see if you'd made it back okay. I didn't sleep at all that night."

"You kissed Mariel behind my back!"

"Once," Russell blurted out. "And she kissed me first, which doesn't make it right, but we were both under a lot of stress. It meant nothing. If you would just talk to Mariel, you'd know that she wants us to be together. She has absolutely no interest in me, and I have no interest in her."

"All I am to you is a conquest," Tom accused, trying to push away from Russell. "You never wanted me. You only wanted power over me."

"Are you serious?" Russell watched his lover struggling against him, his slim body wracked by tearful sobs. "God, Tom, that woman is evil. Can't you see that? I would never do anything to hurt you or to break your trust. And I sure as hell wouldn't sleep with you so that I could control or _conquer_ you." Russell held onto Tom tightly, trying to calm him. "Your wrists are badly injured. You have to stop moving around." Gradually, Tom lost the strength to fight, breathing harshly and obviously in pain. Russell was about to get up to find him a painkiller when he noticed where Tom's gaze had rested. He followed Tom's line of sight to the wooden chair by the bed where the hybrid had left his damaged sheriff's uniform. Slung over the back of the chair was Tom's utility belt, and carefully holstered inside it was the sheriff's service pistol. Tom's tormented blue eyes were locked onto the gun, staring at it as if it held the answer to all his suffering.

Feeling as if he himself might break if he acknowledged Tom's newfound suicidal desires, Russell covered the hybrid's mouth with his own, kissing him passionately. He forced his tongue past Tom's lips when he met resistance, kissing him with a desperation that overwhelmed them both. He was barely able to let up the kiss when Tom began to moan into his mouth, and then gasp when he ran out of oxygen.

"Can you understand how much I want you now, Tom? How much I need you?" Russell demanded, rubbing his coarse beard against his lover's neck and jaw as he showered him with kisses.

"Y—yes…" Tom panted, sounding a lot more reasonable now, if not utterly shattered by Russell's savage kiss.

"You might be a hybrid, Tom, but you're _my_ beautiful hybrid." A small smile touched Russell's lips when Tom looked halfway embarrassed but thoroughly elated at that compliment. "Everybody knows about us now. Mariel. Dave. The children. If I had wanted to keep it a secret, I wouldn't have taken you to my bedroom so that everyone could speculate on what we're doing in here. That means that I have no intention of letting you go."

"I believe you…"

"Then I need you to believe something else. Larkin did something to you, Tom. After she attacked you, I felt a darkness in you that hadn't been there before. A suicidal darkness," he said, putting it as bluntly as he could. When Tom looked shocked, Russell gestured to the gun that was hanging not so innocently on the back of the chair. "What were you thinking just the now?"

"I wasn't thinking anything, Russ. I was just… upset."

"You can't lie to me, Tom. You should know by now that this bond that we have doesn't allow it."

"I'm not lying," Tom protested, now sounding indignant. "I'm not suicidal, Russ. I know that I've been depressed recently… but being with you makes me incredibly happy." His voice softened as he gazed up at Russell, his big blue eyes shining with emotion. "Larkin…" Tom faltered, visibly affected by just saying the name of the woman who had attacked him. "She just said some really disturbing things that got to me. And there was one point where maybe I blacked out… but I've never entertained any thoughts of harming myself. I love you, Russ. I would never do that to you."

The scary thing was that Tom wasn't lying. Or at least he didn't believe that he was lying. And if he didn't believe he was lying, that meant that he had no control over the suicidal tendencies that had temporarily clouded his mind. If Tom was unable to remember his suicidal thoughts or lacked the willpower to fight them, then the only thing standing between Tom and that gun was Russell – both physically and mentally.

"Okay, I'm sorry," Russell said gently, comforting his distressed lover. "Of course I know you wouldn't do that." But this time he was the one who was lying.

* * *

 **Lots of hugs and positive karma will be exchanged for any reviews that are left. :)**


	10. Chapter 10

For several reasons, one of which is the error messages I keep getting on this site (and reviews no longer being posted or review notices not being mailed) I've decided to switch over to Archive of our Own. If you're interesting in reading the continuation to this story, or more Invasion fics, please go to Archive of our Own and type in Twilight Fang. This site won't allow me to post direct links. :(


End file.
